Love poem

Waking up
on the same side of the bed,
hugging you or barely touching your body
watching you while you sleep
and being afraid that you will open your eyes,
dispelling the magic
the clock strikes 6:15
or maybe a little later today.

What dream are you talking about?
Circles everywhere
the mailbox about to fall
fine dog kidnappers
Romeo and Juliet at the bar
beer and the inspiration
at the bottom of the jar,
amidst the foam.

People talking about their lives.
Stories, fantasies, rumors,
lies, longings and broken hearts.
And it seems beautiful to you,
as if you can find inspiration everywhere.
But you keep the words
in a secret notebook
for fear
of everyone else
or of being authentic.

One day
you wake up alone.
The routine interrupted
unplanned.
An empty page and the fear of possibilities
Words destroyed,
torn to pieces and spread
across the carpet.

The fear of love
because a poet can be anyone.
Would you rather be something else?
This is just to say
without love,
what reason is there for anything?