I often wonder
whether in those books you read
you ever read my name
between the lines

like an unexpected gift
or unfortunate rift
like a rifle aimed at you
or flowers handed to you

do you ever feel like I am there?
staring back at your weary eyes
do you ever stop and think back?
the love we never got to share...

a poisonous thought, come evening
I wonder and wonder and wander
to you, the birthmark on your wrist
the poems you write, the meaning you twist

between the lines
did you ever wonder?

quietude of love
everlastingly beautiful
rambunctious excitement
effervescent life
never, yet, the twain shall meet

between the lines
did you ever wonder about me?