Lament of a Poet in Love

I thought I was fabricating a story,
creating experiences that never
had been acted out by the living,
but only after I finished the book
did I discover you, my dearest flower,
and only then did I learn how little
I knew of your true existence
yet how definitively you were
fleshed out in the interstitial
lines metered delicately between
the images drawn upon the pages.