I love you.
"I love you, too,"
came her reply.

Not as much as
I love you.

She smiles, saying,
"How do you know?"

I'm more passionate.

"Only in your mind."
"You know not mine."
"Do you doubt I could?"

I pause
and say, no way.
Then, ponder.

Is there a means
to extrapolate
how much love
one person
has for another?

Kelvin, Celsius,
Fahrenheit or BTU?
Hot, cold or
Lukewarm?

Is love seasonal?
Does it come
and go as
ebb and flow?

Is it constant,
like the sun,
Or capricious
as the moon?

You never say
I'm sorry.

"When did
I wrong you?"

Oh, yeah.
You haven't.

Confused, I say.
Perhaps you do,
love me as much,
but never more.

She smiles,
an ambiguous smile...
and wins.