You question the expanse of my love because you cannot see its depths, but do you question the deepness of the ocean though humanity has yet to unearth its deepest point?

Superficially, my waters may seem opaque—dense—shallow—if it weren’t for the rolling waves which continuously reach out to you, and, in the process, dry themselves out in the sand.

Perhaps I do not appear translucent from where you stand, but I assure you, come delve into my depths when I am not turbulent, for I drown out any foreigners who may desecrate my waters, and you will see that not even you could graze the surface of the latitudinous love I have for you.

You dare question my capacity to hold oceans within this hollow chest? I hold thousands of galaxies, yottabytes of hazy memories within this spacious cavity; do not assume, to not limit me, to one megabyte. No matter how long these rolling waves are quelled, no matter how calm my waters may be whilst you try and measure me, you will never find my absolute minimum.

Maybe my capacity is just that incomprehensible to you, a man.

                                               -M.A.L. 11:35 9/9/14