XLIII

XLIII

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,–I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!–and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
from Sonnets from the Portuguese

Your smile.
Your drive.
Your love for God.
Your left earlobe…
In fact the skin under your left ear lobe.
That mole on your collar-bone.
And the one on your leg too.
The way the light hits your eyes just so.
The way you light the world with your inner light.
The curve of your lower lip
And that little curve on your hip
…you know the one.
Your fire.
Your calm.
Your peace…
in all most things.
The past…it was all worth it.
Your presence is my present.
The future…we will create.
Together.

You accept me.
Flaws and claws.
Soft under-belly too.
You are my anchor.
You are my adventure.
I see you.
I love you.
You are my enough.
All of you.

…Always.
Me.