I will write you the first line of a love poem
But no more, because I don't know what comes after
And I'm afraid if I try to wing it by myself
It'll just be a mess
Can I hand it off to you?
Can you discover the next bit
The cadence and the line breaks
And when you reach a part that doesn't make sense
Pass it back to me
And together we'll write something
We'd never have come up with
Otherwise
And here, I am stuck
I've rewritten this stanza half a dozen times at least
So let me stop struggling to say the unsayable.
Enough.
I offer this to you with all my love.
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