one by one i write
all my marginalized half-poems down
and make them whole.
the illegible scribbles
the train wrecks of thought
all collided in that inch of vertical white space
in my music history notebook.
and then i know why all this must be written,
why these words need to be read by invisible eyes:
it's because you, the one who mouths silently
my poems by a moon-filled window,
fall in love with words first,
before you fall in love with me.