I’ve tried stringing
Together words that
Might assume the shape
Of what my mind, heart
And body feels for you,
But emotions, it seems,
Refuse to be justified by
Words that make the intensity
Of my loving impotent, and
I cannot accept this primal
Element embedded within me
To be stripped off its
Magnitude, and this inadequacy
Of language has made me come to the
Conclusion that I must return
To the roots of mankind, to a
Time long before letters were
Born, where actions conveyed what
Syllables constricted, so darling,
Don’t be upset if you do not find
A letter beneath your pillow
Or an “I love you” everyday,
Notice instead the warm, washed
Blanket that I put out for you,
Or the coffee that you wake up to
Made exactly how you like it, and
If you brought your eye closer, you’d
See, without me uttering a
Single word, that my love for you exists
In everything that you know.

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