A caution from the end of this
line to the the start of yours,
my dear,
we can't define love,
try and try as we might,
because it writhes and it yearns
and it's all cutting and bite
because life is mean and the world
will one day just burn and
we want love to be greater than
the end of one life or the stain
left behind words.

Love can lift you and love can burn
and love gives power and it is stern
but love makes you capable
of things beyond your means
and love is wise but love also bleeds.

And we talk about love like it
is some kind of cure but it's
as poison as palliative and it's
often much too much to bear
you get on the river boat,
smile warmly, the wind wafts your hair
but love is/isn't a river and
life is so often crueler than fair

and love can lift us and love can burn
and love can make us capable
and love can sing and love can turn
but what we find we can do
to win a heart or persevere through
we can also inflict on people
as in love as you.

when I say I love you, dear
I mean it with all my heart.
this thing we've built is
my greatest work of art.
but life is difficult to live
from finish to start
and love can seem bright,
my dear,
but it can also be dark.