Sonnet 11

You ask me why I no longer write you love poems
But I do write them, leaving them only in my head.
So now I attempt to spill out the tomes
Carefully treasured, to find where they led.
Each stored line seems to point me back to you
As I navigate through what is me and what is other
I learn there can still be me and you too
My heart tells me I do not seek another.
In each beat, I hear your voice, feel your touch
Little things turn my thoughts constantly your way--
Some might say this is not much
But to me, all the signs seem to say--
This connection is something special, our love too great
To be ignored, I must grab this chance before too late.