A poem for Roo

I sit here
Fingers poised over keypad
As I wait for heavenly inspiration to strike me asunder 
Too bad I'm a virtual atheist.

So I will dig deep
pull out my feelings
And splay them on chalky screen
A poor, yet honest, imitation.

What is a poem, love?
As told by a wise orthodontist
Your innermost thoughts made visible on paper
But that's not right is it?

A poem is to have structure and rhythm
It rises and falls
Its fluid, it flows from page to heart
My thoughts are anything but.

My grey-matter, fickle bitch that it is
Has no flow
No rhyme or reason
It erupts and slumbers

So tell me, dearest Roo
How would I write you a poem?

Would I start with how we met?
At a support group of troubled egoists
Emotionally barren souls
Looking for solace in art and their own kin?

How we fell in love?
That time stopped at night
And rang with the screams of our veritas
We confessed, truly, at 4am?

That you made me believe in soulmates?
We revelled in our mutual lactose sensitivity
Became telepaths, empaths
Teenage dirtbags?

Or how we first kissed?
The perfection that was our first date
Of elves, hobbits and cheesecake
The tiled, sanitised monument of our genesis?

How about starships and losers?
Mingling fingers and buttered corn
Backseats and hurt backs
Of peace, contentment, and home?

Would I mention beds?
Warmth, dissipating distances
Scent, sound, touch; pure synesthesia
Of lingering kisses and perpetual hugs?

Addiction?
Withdrawal, narcolepsy and zombies
The blurring of days
The torturous weekend?

Redemption?!
We filled each other, lucidity incarnate
When we held each other
How all was right with the world?

And everything in between?
Of shared passions and loves?
Of oceans of peace and home?
How you, love, are my everything and all?

Of whispered and screamed iloveyous?
Words before sleep and exclamations of awakening?
Dreams and pillows?
Of the futures we design?

I cannot put this on paper
It would result in ecological disaster
The Frenchness of my mind would not be sated
And I would not do you, us justice.

Roo
My Roo
My dearest love
I am no poet

So I will just show you

I will just be.