There are six billion people on the Earth.
Only seventeen of them
have ever seen a real UFO, only six have seen
a ghost, and only thirty-seven have seen
a yeti.

All of them keep quiet because
they have rationalized their experiences thus:

“it was lightning…”
“it was a trick of weak light…”
“it was my eyes making dumb sense of odd shadows on the underbrush…”

and so on. This is the way truth is made.
What they saw is a matter of fact, how they explain it
is a matter of faith. Sixty separate miracles
are filed sadly away as bad angles, old vision, and
unremarkable moments in unremarkable lives…

so how can you say
you are sure
you don’t love me?