(for all the nerdy girls)

I love thee more than the number
of blossoms on the all azaleas
in my front yard. More than the petals,
more even than the pollen grains
on all the stamens on all the flowers
in all the world.

Because enough of thee could count
them all given enough time but I love
thee even more the number of pearls
on an infinite necklace from a never-ending
spool, one nacreous gem per centimeter,
forever unwinding.

But even that does not adequately describe
the cardinality of my love for thee
which is as uncountable as Zeno dragging
you closer by cutting that necklace
in half each time yet as you draw ever nearer—
I never get to touch your lips.

(For today’s prompt, write a number poem.)