What a strange thought
I find it interests me to
That love should be less
Because people are more

And why are people more
For lust not love in kind
Has multiplied by the score
With lost love of sum to find

I find my own qualities in love to please me
A sum of my own personal kind
One you've not placed before me to appease me
Yet must be there to take of Love's time

Quantity of love sound like division
A fact of mathematical find
Which has no place in my rendition
For the equation of love in my mind

An interesting thought for dissection
For I tend to think love as a whole
And not just a fraction of Love's dimension
Nor as remainder for the sum of it's roll

How odd this notion of division
I find no taste in it's hold
How does one find the love of full flavor
If love has been divided as a whole