less to say

How can I even tell you? How much you mean
to me - it's so easy to put
what I mean and feel
into words, they may as well
be lies. It comes out true and strong
each time, some perfect small part

of a universe that may as well be
fictional, for how little it touches
of everything you

have already put there, first. Before
I had even noticed, to pick it up, astonished
to say what it means to me. I am accurate,
but it means so much more - I am more
or less belittling it, to tell the truth. Or
it feels that way. Sometimes I wish

you had given me less to say.