See how my arms stretch? That isn’t enough.
I need other units to measure my love.
I love you tons — does that say it? No, I need more;
All measures that I can find add to the score.
Like liters and kilograms, megabytes, microns,
And firkins, and farthings, and fathoms, and furlongs.
I love you hat sizes: you contain my ego,
And friction coefficients, so you won’t let me go.
And Kelvin, and Fahrenheit, and Celsius degrees,
And beats, and measures, and octaves, and keys.
And IQ points: you understand me so well,
And then PSI’s, as you make my heart swell.
I love you amps, and joules, and kilowatt-hours,
And Fujita ratings, and binary powers.
And sandpaper grit, for how smooth you feel,
And candelas of light; you’re my whole color wheel.
And I love you carats, with treasures and prizes,
And calories: with you, my temperature rises.
And G-forces, for your gravitic appeal;
Yes, I love you with megawattical zeal!
I love you bushels, and barrels, and adjusted gross wages,
And coma scale ratings, and tennis racquet gauges.
I love you in boundlessly measurable ways,
And half-lives — two — ‘til the end of my days.
© Bryan Olive. All rights reserved.