Ladywithaquill

Do I know you?

I find meaning in every word you write.

But like a curator staring at abstract art,

Who finds only a reflection of herself,

I see myself in your poetry,

But do I see you my love?

I wrap each word you say,

Around the gardens of my mind,

Decorated with such beautiful vines.

I love listening to you sing,

But do I hear you my love?

I think I can read you like a book,

Tell you your favourite colour,

It’s orange, you don’t know it yet.

Sometimes I think I do, but I doubt,

Do I know you my love?