Alphabet Soup

So many times,

I’ve sat down to write our love,

And every time,

My bones coat with stone

I’ve only ever minced words,

Catalogued every single thought,

But drew a blank over your name

I reckoned romance lived in novels,

And poems were like pallbearers

Still I tried to bleed my heart,

So what reason could there be,

For its surrender into silence?

I’ve been working on a theory,

When our heartbeats turn to tremors,

And the stars swim in our eyes,

What else, is there to say?