Love in Multitude.

Is love a solitary thing, singled into some reclusive being?
Is it narrow, proud, like a rare dusty stream?
Many would say that indeed it’s so.
In evidence, they point to the jealous
Betrothed, who sharing of bed
brings discomfort, in least-
And why else would Adam, be
paired with an Eve?

But I can’t accept, no believe that such connection,
Could be limited, restricted, and confined in
Small convention. The bigness of passion and the
Raging of thought, the fine fickle whisper of some
Future we sought- the sharing the holding the
Sweat from the brow, all boiling and burning and
bubbling about. Our knowing that this is all but
a story, and we are not we but an I and all worthy;
Of love, of love, without the one two or three.
Of love without restrictions
From you. Or from me.