Yes, I sent you
a hidden haiku
late last night.
I hope it was alright.

You don’t have to wonder,
as I drifted off to slumber,
what it was about, or who.
The subject and object? Yeah, it’s you.

Not that you’re objectified
when I gaze at the inside
of my eyelids.
I felt inspired to write, so I did.

Why do I never send these to you directly?
Keeping them hidden leads to romantic subtlety.