In a more romantic era, I never would have been allowed to marry my wife. She would have married into land and wealth and I would be awaiting my trial for heresy somewhere. But before her wedding and before my outbursts against the power structure, I would have nightly dipped a quill into ink and scribbled out my feelings in long, poetic tomes. And on the gallows, as her nobleman husband pulled the lever, my wife would have held tight the letters against her chest, feeling my last thoughts comfort her.
Though a heavy loss for Literature, modernity has allowed us to marry. But now and then, I have found the sincerity to pull out my iPhone and rattle off words of love to her. This is a collection of these, and some other, notes, distilled through verse as best as I can. These 34 poems demonstrate a longing for what one has in a language other than gratitude.