1. I can no longer see or feel or hear or taste
anything that is pure and good and real and
beautiful in this world, without wanting
so badly to share it with you.

2. They don't amount to a staggering lot yet,

the days since I met you, but you are easily
my favorite part of every single one.

3. I won't always write about you—I can

never promise you this—but deep down I can
tell: every wispy word that fits, every delicate
phrase that resonates, every sentence I draw
from my most secret corners, the lush and
the shadows and the torment and the tempering
and the midnight ocean magnitude of it all,
will be for nobody else but you.

Happy Valentine's, fools in love. Keep rushing in.