Limits

There are none
  {were none}
Lane picked them up
  {shook them}
and tossed them out the window
  {they flew}
then turned to me and smiled
  {sweet smile}
and caressed the flower of my dreams
  {touched down}
coaxing out the nectar of articulation
  {dug deep}
in the form of poetry falling onto the page
  {caught words}
I was unsure of my work, worried
  {turning away}
She read my words and saw all that they meant to me
  {praised them}
commented, critiqued, and kept letting me back
  {open arms}
kept inspiring me to write again and again
  {keep going}
gave me reason to write, reason to care
  {I smiled}
But now I am unsure, hating these words
  {She left}
they are pathetic, unexpressive and so wrong
  {tears fell}
for displaying the depth she reached
  {and touched}
and the degree to which she changed me
  {loved me(?)}
I loved her, for all that she was
  {still do}
and for seing in me what I could be...