Why not write odes to my lips
Or sonnets to my eyes?
Why not take me as your muse,
Yours and only yours?
Why not make me immortal,
Forever treasured in your lines?
Why not love me?
Why?
I could compose poems to fill the oceans seven times over,
Yet you, the poet, have no words
Why not love me as I do you?
Why not love me?
Why...
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