The dream of control: That I could draw love into a box and keep it fully to myself. And when I try, I always find myself outside of the box, and whatever locks made to secure it serve only to keep me out. Love remains infinite and unbounded, and it turns out I am the one in a box.
We can never lock away love, except from the outside. Must we then leave our love open to thieves?
Why guard an inexhaustable treasure?
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