My grandpa always says,
“I love you more than applesauce.”

I think applesauce
Is a strange measurement for love,
But to each their own.

But you, little one,
I love you
More than I love
Sunday mornings.

I love you more than
Springtime,
Cinnamon rolls,
Sunflowers,
Unicorns,
Cozy blankets,
And a good night’s sleep.

I love you more than
I hate conflict,
More than I love
Keeping the peace.

I love you more
Than I ever loved tequila
Or Ativan
Or Mary Jane –
Or any of the other friends
I chose you over,
And will choose you over,

I will choose you
Over and over again
For all of forever.

I love you more
Than I wanted to die.
I love you more
Than I love
Deflecting
Uncomfortable conversations
With existential questions.

I love you more
Than I thought
My broken heart
Could love.

And I love you
More than applesauce,
More than the sun
And stars
And moon,

And I love the love
I’ve learned
To give myself
Just by knowing you.