On Poets and Muses

I write about You
not knowing if You'd even know
that it is about You

I write to You
not knowing if You'd even
get the chance to read it
and know that it is for You

All I know is that when I write 
about love 
about hope
about pain
about tomorrow
They all mean You

Maybe that is the curse
of the poet and their muse,
like an astronomer to his stars,
maybe we were only meant
to admire You
from a distance