when she loves,
she spills over.
she makes a mess,
a mud puddle.
so, lover, be creative
to stay afloat.
if you must bring
a boat and a paddle because
the way she loves drowns—
heart always full, lungs out of breath.
your ribs expand
to take in some air.
your sigh, despair
of loving instead.
maybe like her old flames, soon, you too
would wish
her love burns less.
but, she is meant to engulf all,
like the waves that hit the shore
with unrelenting energy.
she is meant
to be consumed
by the whole of your body.
no, she cannot water down her love
for you, for anybody.
and so, lover,
just hold her steady.
any less is unworthy.