Is it possible to be in love with a feeling?
To love not the person, nor object, but
That stirring in your soul you can’t describe?
Like walking on your tip-tap-toes
On a slippery kitchen floor? Or catching
Every perfect snowflake on your eager tongue?
Is it feasible that the object of your affection
Is not an object at all, but the crackling,
Giggling flames spreading warmth deep down
In the bottom of your flopping belly? A feeling
So beautiful, so much more worthy than I.