First Person, Singular

Sometimes I think that if I write
a poem
in the first person
the truth I must tell
will kill me.

I am alone when I write
except when I write for you.

The singularity of my aloneness
seems more acceptable
when I write to you.

I think that poems wouldn't exist
without beautiful women to write them for.

I remember the first time that I saw you
in person
first person
singular
smiling a perfect smile
and catching my heart in your eyes.
I was uncomfortable
being alone
and you comforted me.
I was stupidly
clumsy
and you helped me.

Did you know
that I loved you
from that moment?

Maybe first person truth
won't kill me after all.