Some fool said there were five love languages,
But what does he know, though they say only
Fools fall in love, there is more to love than
The fall. From what I've seen there are as many
Ways to love as there are fools who love, and
Just as foolishly do we seek love backwards,
Trying to bend it to us, where love loves outward
To the other, based on their needs, not the lover's,
But yet when love's love is true love, there seems
A seamless reciprocity, a give and a take,
Where what is given comes back in spades,
Ten fold, where the cup runneth over, but such
Love requires the risk that when the shot goes up
The rebound may bounce away to another,
Forcing lovers to rush back on defense, guarding
Their heart from any risk again, but love is not
The game we think it is, rather the unique power,
Which is the creative basis of the world we have
Been given, freely, and so our giving of our own
Love, our entire self, without any requirement
Of or on anyone else, is where we find life, and
Those life giving waters that meet our every need.
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