I haven’t forgotten you, or, the image I’ve made of you.
When I say you, it may be that I’m talking about pure fantasy.
You, are something I don’t feel I’m quite good enough for,
But neither are you, for me.
I’ll work on my end, with the vast array of blocks to try to overcome.
I’m sure you’ll work on yours, with the equally vast array.
I feel the words “ I love you. “ coming from my lips toward your ears,
But I wonder what these words mean and where they come from originally.
“ I love you. “;
Does this mean that I love you?
I think so.

Why I say this to you specifically…
Is because the parts fit,
There is serendipity, though scant and thin, slippery and fleeting.
Chemistry, imaginary? My imagination? Yours too? Yours possibly?
Those nuts and bolts, that are what they are.

Can I feel you?
Am I happy?
Is there pain? What kind of pain?
What kind of happiness?
What type of feeling?

I know that it’s unlikely you share this dream.
Perhaps dreaming is enough for me.

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