I think I’ve been infatuated.
Twitterpatted.
Romantisized.
But never like
this.
It’s a new twist.

I see you like a spectre
gliding through the shelves
of poets who have expressed
feelings so deep they’ve delved
into the very heart and soul
of the human experience.
And they still don’t know
what I feel when you glance
back at me amidst
the bound books,
and look,
with your deep, piercing, gaze
into my heart
and amaze
me
and see
again
who I am.