My Love…
We are fodder for a fire, that burns brightly yet does not incinerate; that grows hotter with time, yet does not obliterate; that protects with its heat; that melts two into one entity as certainly as crayons melt together on a hot stove.
Elizabeth Barrett to Robert Browning June 26, 1846
Shall I always
think the
same of you,
you asked
yesterday.
But I
never think
the same
of you;
because
day by day
you look greater
and feel dearer…