I Could Never Love You Enough

it is folly, this

quest

upon which i have embarked,

to love you in the amount

that you intrinsically deserve,

to find for you

an expression of this

overwhelming

gratitude.

for how could i find

something worthy

of the sun?

how could the dim,

dancing light

of a candle

blaze bright enough to

satisfy the moon?

how could a crumb,

fallen to the wayside on

some old, battered table

in a salty cottage,

feed a mouth that's

been out to sea?

how can a pebble

amount to anything

more,

greater,

than another nameless

face in a sea

of nameless faces?

how can a single drop of

rain

cleanse the soiled

hands of a traveller

who has seen the world?

how could this sole

pair of lips

cover your skin

with the infinite lavishing

that it has earned?

i do not know.

perhaps the candle must simply burn,

and the crumb must simply feed,

and the pebble must simply exist,

and the rain must simply fall,

and perhaps i must simply love

and continue to love

and continue to touch

and continue to kiss

until i have managed(if

i can manage)to

show you.