I write.
Not with words from any language spoken
But from the vivid lines our memories utter;
A plethora of bliss.
I type.
Not with my fingers,
But the scent of a love that is so indelible that it lingers, in the depths of my spirit
I see.
Not with a pair of eyes dimmed by despair,
But with a pair of virtues like hope and faith
That sees a life greater than we imagined.
I hear.
Not with the ears that cling to a sorrowful moan,
But with the sweet melody of a love so sacred that it can only come from God.
I feel.
Not the feelings of a temporary euphoria that lacks the foundation of truth
But the inseparable indiscernible incomprehensible nature of a love so pure that it was crucified.
I know.
I know nothing to be absolute
Except that I love you absolutely.
I know nothing to be absolute
I absolutely love you!
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