I write line
After line for her
I don’t even know her
I have this strong urge to show her
What her words mean to me
I have risen out of dreams
To craft lines about her mind
And a pair of brown eyes
I have yet to even see
I read word after word
Then get trapped in a world
Where my sun and my moon
Both kneel at her feet
Her poetry is deep
Every verb feels urgent
Each syllable important
God wouldn’t dare critique
She is poetic perfection to me