If It Were Even Possible To Love You More

Do I love you less for time and space,
For hours spent in lonely beds,
Nights without your arms, without
My head resting on the gentle rise
And fall of your broad chest,
The sound of your ever-beating heart
My comfort, my missing lullaby;
For days where my hand searches
For yours as I walk, to find only air
And unhappiness in missing you?
No, counterintuitive and masochistic
As it may be, I love you more each day
And I always will,
If it were even possible to love you,
More than I already do.