How Much Do I Love You?

You ask me how much I love you. Faith, to you I’ll always be true. Till China and Africa meet, As would on Auden’s Bristol Street.

Lovers affirm their total zeal To bare their souls, their self repealed: Absolute, entire, exclusive. Leaves me befuddled and pensive.

Yet I wonder what love entails. “To Have and To Hold,” sans details? Is it eternal and boundless, And obliges one be selfless?

You ask me how much I love you. Hearken, “to thine own self be true.” To say you are all that matters, Assures my own self in tatters.

If my thoughts are all about you, Give up everything else I do. That be my promise ever more, All other feelings I foreswore.

The self belies a total zeal, To my feelings I do appeal. I love you more than even me; Can I love you exclusively?

You ask me how much I love you. Banal flattery I eschew; As much as I can love someone, You shall be my dearest bar none.

How deep is my love I know not. Deep enough though, I would have thought. But not being selfless, I fear I can’t my love for you made clear.

Absent a selfish urge to lie, Imperfections I can’t deny. Better honesty to expose Than deceitfulness undisclosed.