When you love someone, you create a ghost,
false images painted on gossamer silk,
Formed out of dreams into their likeness.
Perhaps that is the thing that scares me most.

I’m scared you're an idea I made
a false version made of deepest desire. And I don’t understand why it is
I can't help but to romanticize you.

Sometimes I worry I glorify you.
and that our souls don't hold an ancient bond
no conspiring universe beyond us
only the old heart of a romantic.

Perhaps one day it will all spill over
and I can finally meet the real you