Do You Really Love Me? Poem by Suki Nakamura

there are many things about me,
myself, the image of myself, your concept about my image,
you only read my words, they are trying to make up a poem for me
not really for you, you feel my words and try to understand
what i am trying to say to words, they also convey them to you,
you see, it is like a rumor passing from one mouth to another,
and images become too many that you only pretend to love me
through one of the eight images now appearing in the screen of your mind
you will hear voices like echoes deep from the well, you will see faces,
the ripples shall erase them and you shall retain only one face for me
how are you sure that it is me in that image of your mind?
you feel you love me, you have not even seen my eyes, you have not
even felt a single hair from my armpits, i may be harsh, as i warned you,
there is something wrong with me and i will again see my shrink.
i guess, you have to see yours too. Love is so fragile and even poems
are not qualified enough to handle its quality control division.