Overflows

In the free world you can get anything for the right price. But then they say love is free. Is it earned or is it owed to someone who cares for you? Who would know?

Still I freely love this man who is not free. He is within a cell, a hole of solitude. Once he wrote about love in small doses.

I cannot wrap my mind around love being doled out in small doses like a bitter medicine. I can only know that my cup overflows with that liquid of love, perfectly warmed by my waiting lips, and I drink so greedily till I am fuller than full.

Love in small doses, he says.

Has he never even felt the love that never quits? The love that is never rounded by the tides, never browns in the winter - that is love for me and when I give it I want it to be received with an open heart.

It troubles me that this man I love does not know, has never felt this bliss. I have loved fools never knowing they were using my love to gain. Still I never regret because I have renewed love for this man who can barely take it all in.

I love this man, this cursed man who has never really been loved.

You are him.

Love that overflows...