I didn’t mean to make you love me
against your better judgement.

I have no goddess delusions
of aesthetic attributes,
nor any grand notions
about my skills at seduction.

I just love you.

The only reason why I didn’t leave you alone
was because I couldn’t help it.

The only reason why
I always showed you
the best version of me
    the most beautiful,
    the most intelligent,
    the most womanly,
    the most sincere,
was because you bring out the best in me
and around you I know no other way to be.
The only reason why
you could feel weak at my touch
is because I grow in strength at yours.

For sure you would be better off
without loving me.
I am just a troublesome complication
in your otherwise steadfast direction.
I didn’t mean to put ideas in your head
    redefining meaning,
    rewriting rhyme and reason
and I only say it’s worth it
because I have nothing to lose,
but you do.
So don’t believe me.

I didn’t mean to make you believe me.

Just because I love you
in a love
so vast
    my soul is bursting at the seams
    trying to contain its indigo songs;
so pure
    that artists wet their brushes
    with the hues of its dreams;
so deep
    that philosophers probe
    its constellations with a microscope;
so ardent
    that other lovers come to warm themselves
    at the fire of my confessions;
doesn’t mean you have to love me back.

I didn’t mean to make you love me back.
But I wanted to.