maybe this is what people call LOVE

I love you

Not only for what u r

But for what I m

When I m with u.

I love you

Not only for what u have made of urself

But for what u r making of me

I love u for the part of me

That u bring out.

I love you

For putting ur hand

Into my heaped up heart

And passing over

All the foolish, weak things

That u can’t help

Dimly seeing there,

And for drawing out into the light

All the beautiful belongings

That no one else had looked

Quite fat enough to find.

I love you

Because u r helping me to make

Of the lumber of my life

Not a tavern but temples

Out of the work of my every day

Not a reproach but a song.

I love you

Because u have done

More than any creed

Could have done to make me good

And more than any fate

Could have done to make me happy

You have done it without touch

Without a word

Without a sign

You have done it by being urself

Perhaps that is what

Being friend means, after all.