How I know to love you

This is how I know to love you:

I have loved before without question.
I unwrapped its arrival like a gift,
finding leather shoes that didn’t fit
or a maybe a silk shirt in a color I didn’t like.

Yet I accepted the present
for what it was: something in my hand,
a thought so sweet and expectant.
My love was gallant.

I cupped it like droplets of water.
How I loved it, how I burned,
and, burning, how my love faded
with nothing left to return.

This is how I love you now:

I love you in a sea of questions,
or perhaps an ocean,
with question mark
after question mark
leaping in the salty spray.

I navigate with caution
because I want you present,
like water.

I don't want us to lose our way.