I would love you more than all the fish in the sea
but that isn’t going over so well lately, so why don’t
I love you more than the aggregate number
of viral kitten video views, the collective Wonderwall
covers played at pallet burning bonfires.
I love you more than all the Natty Lights crushed in beer pong
games by guys more sensitive than they seem, more than
all the hashtagYOLO, hashtagPimpin, hashtagHashtaged tweets.
I love you more than every booty call from every city-
surrounding town on Craigslist, more than all the digital pix
taken of Coliseums, Eifel towers, shadowed dix.
I love you more than all the rejection letters received
from journals more prestigious than me, more than all
the English words Kenny G hopes to embody.
I love you more than the number of art grads using their skills
on café chalkboards, more than every espresso kicked back by kids
in skinny jeans and glasses. Than the brick laid between people.
I love you more than all your mother’s bobby-pins found
in the cracks of our floor, more than the miles her
hands have traveled across my cobbled stone back.
I love you more than every punchline
missed. Unlike all the stars in the sky
these numbers will never diminish.