Imaginary True

You’ve said I do not love the truly you,
That my imagination steers me wrong;
Your music, pictures, sentences you write,
Don’t coalesce into one single song,
Or if they did, were some part faint of you,
And not the essence of your inner light.
But that’s not true, for one by one by one
I add the things you like and choose and post,
And one by one by one I raise no ghost,
But full live spirit that most beauty shows,
More rosier than blown roses in the sun,
Out-shining dew in dawning’s overflows
And yet a she with sweet rebellious mind
Who says my ‘magination steers me blind!

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