Valentine's Day

I am not powerful in love, my love is flaccid and clammy. It pours out like yesterday's tea, a little thickened, very murky, mixed with the swirls of turned cream. I cannot love grandly, and heroically. Some people can love a thing fuller than the thing's capacity, they can surround something with their love. Their love can make the object bigger than it is.

I cannot love around, though. My love has not the structural integrity for that. My love is not so grand as that. But even so, even so, I have that little human urge, I want to love, to love, to love, to love with all the love I have. How lucky I am then, that I met someone whose heart is deep and richly chambered like a limestone cave. It is cool and humid with an infusion of its own rich love, and I can pour and pour myself into it, and never, ever, ever fill it up. 

Happy Valentine's, Amanda.