love letters for the end of the world: II

i love. and love. and love. and i
will never not hunger
for more,
to love more.
 
it takes all of me yet i need
more. than this, than all.
this is what they mean when they say that Love is Divine,
and the Divine is all-consuming.
 
and i see, now.
 
the Priestess of Djehuty, lady of Khmun's waters she was, who told me long ago:  
to seek (and live in the finding of) the Divine is a burning,
an ache unlike any other, and fulfillment beyond all else. --she's right.
 
so i love. and i love. and i love.
i can't not. not anymore.
 
and it is like dying every day, and being given new life at each breath.
 
my vessel could not have been made to contain all this.
it can't.
it's hardly bearable even now and i  
have barely scratched the surface of  
anything.
 
but whether or not i was made for this is not mine to say.
 
and if it were to be the end of me,  
then who's to say it wasn't mine
to end in?
 
so i love. and i love. and i love.