Mac -

I do not love you as if you were a salt rose or topaz,
Or the air o'er carnations that fire shoots off,
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
In secret 'tween the shadow and the soul.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where
I love you straightforwardly without complexities or pride
I love you because I know no other way than this

So close that your hand on my chest is my hand
So close that when you close your eyes I fall asleep.

-Walt Whitman.