Who Knew? (Poetry Form Five: Cento)

This is my first ever cento. Apparently it means “patchwork” and is a type of found poem made of lines from other poems. First major departure from my comfort zone here.
Thanks to The Found Poetry Review for the suggestion.

Well let me tell you now:
I didn’t feel the aimed word hit.
Nor had I time to love.
Ten years ago it seemed impossible:
I should love
I should love to be loved.

Love, the reeling midnight through –
Does my twisting body spell out grace?
Give me your hand.
Make me laugh, weep and laugh.
What I feared has come upon me
The birthday of my life has come,
My love,
And I’m afraid it’s you.