Quant

I cannot quantify the way I love
A thousand moments seems at once too few
And far too many to give record of
The quality with which I feel for you.
A million sighs or kisses could not give
The sense of how you make me feel at night,
Yet every single moment that I live
Itself contains that feeling as a right.
So how can I express that in a number?
It makes no sense, and so I'll leave it be.
But while that instinct may be said to slumber
And I'll leave love devoid of quantity,
I will say any number could have done:
My love compresses all of them to one.