Do we
scavenge those we love? Do we with ferocious greed explore them, gobbling up
their most laudable, rare, beautiful qualities, only to find later that we’ve
left nothing behind? Once we’ve feasted on their glories, what then have we to
subsist on? Are we, even in love, creatures of such lewd self-interest?
But no,
surely no. Surely our desire to devour them just feeds their evolution. Surely
as we prune them back we leave new space for growth. We imbibe but we digest as
well, we incorporate some portion of them into what we are. And they feed on us
too, with desire just as greedy. We never simply take. Not in love.
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