**Poem #5 of my poem-a-day challenge. Written on Valentine’s Day**

Sometimes
I think
I was born
with love spilling
out from my edges.

It’s why I cannot help
but yell, “puppy!”
every single time
I see a dog.
It’s why babies
and weddings
and communion
and sappy commercials
always make me cry.

It’s why I cannot
hold my words in
sometimes
and why
I probably love you
more than you’d be
entirely comfortable with
(whoever you are)
if you knew.

It’s why I’m writing
this poem over wine
at 3 in the afternoon.

It’s why I’ve always
been a little heartbroken,
I think.
There’s too much
inside me, and so
it pours from the cracks
like a summer flooding.

I guess there are
worse things
to clog up the gutters with
than the overflow
of one’s heartbeats.

And certainly,
there are
worse places
for love to go
than into the streets.

So I don’t mind,
I guess,
if love spills
from my edges.
But still, I’ll confess
that I’d mind even less,
if someday there’s
someone
to cup hands
’round my heart
and catch.