Written

Were I to tell you, love, the way I feel
In any other way than how I do,
You would no longer think my feelings real
And that is something I don't need from you.
Therefore I always tell you my emotions
The same slow way - by posting these long rhymes.
And by such complex indirect devotions
Your crablike knowledge of my loving climbs
Backwards to its goal. Direct approach
Seems strange and out of place. Instead I use
Descriptions that can, line by line, encroach
On your awareness, so you can't refuse
To know exactly what I'm thinking of:
My too-poetic, yet ecstatic, love.