Muse

I struggle to make sense of things
since my mind discovered your lips,
and your intrepid fingertips.

I write in verses what I feel
watching my pens run out of ink
letting my heart slowly sink.

It's hard to find the perfect tune
to express how much I need you,
how lucky I was to meet you.

Whenever you can't sleep at night
I want you to re-read these lines
and travel back to better times.

When I think of the years ahead
I wonder what other words we'll share
written in letters filled with care.