To you, love was about multitudes.
To me, love was inordinate.
I love you, I would say.
How much? You would ask.
I couldn’t find the words to answer you then.
But they have found their way to me since. And this is what I
would tell you.
I would blanket the world in utter darkness; I would pull back
the veil of light and reveal to you, a blinding crescendo of stars.
I would drain all the seven seas and ask you to count–one by
one–every grain of sand that clings to the ocean floor.
I would tally the beat of every human heart that has echoed
since the dawn of our becoming.
And as you look in awe at the sheer magnitude of my admission,
I would take your hand in mine and tell you; if only you had let
me, this is how much I could have loved you.