Love let err

Dear darling heart, 

It gives me great love 
to love writing you
this. 

To tell you
the amount of my love. It's
a poem, so you know. That means:
expect anything. The amount 
(by the way)
of love (mine)
(for you) is quite
respectable, as I hope
and expect you'll observe.

("He said, 
with a certain
smug hot confidence.") 

Other than that? Your body is tops. 
I dig your hair smell
and eyes, 
and that's 
everything that goes 
together in me to synthesize
and produce love in the amounts 
(I hope) you'll agree
are impressive 
enough!
Please
write soon, but wait 

'til you read this first. Then write. 

Write back as soon as it makes 
sense, please. Write to say - the
amount of my love, do you 
respect it? Does it make sense?
Does it impress you? I feel 
pretty cocky about it,
but only 

you can tell me:

My smugness is absolutely
right. 

Tell me it is.
I know it is. 

Tell me you knew, too.