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how much of love
is squandered
by need to have it all
as every lock
a silent sigh
is witness to a fall

as promise balanced
upon the sword of faith
how is it
love is come for us –
with gifts
to give away

denied the rules
for holding on –
some loss
we’ll never know
of fated ever-afters
in letting go

. . .

Author’s Note: It took me a long time to learn this about love. It took most of my life to see that any attempt to define love only served to make it less. Every rule resulted in less of the thing I desired most. Only when the rules were burned did I reap an abundance of that which had so alluded me.