You listen to the rhythm and blues of my sorrows,
Just to sing and dance and drown yours away.
You're the poem that I will never write
because the 26 letters and a few punctuations in the English language will never be enough to do your beauty or the magnitude of my affection justice.

Ours is black love, I love black love.
Because much like the black(w)hole,
it is strong enough to keep entire galaxies in its orbit.

On this day(February 14th), a man was ****** to death for the emotion that roams my heart at the thought of you. Legend speculates that the strength of his affection healed the blindness of his jailer’s daughter.



From this I was inspired. If I was to ever truly love, the magnitude of my love would have to have healing powers and perform miracles of some sort. My love would have to rid my lover of their fears and insecurities. It would have to wipe their tears and amplify their personalities. It would have to turn frowns into smiles and give them the courage to pick up their crown and place it on their majestic heads. When their tank is on empty, it’ll keep them going for miles. The affection would have to be incredible.



The love would have to give them eyesight and vision to help them see beyond their imperfections, help them see the true beauty of the being staring back in the mirror. My love would have to convince you that it is true and undying. When confessed, you’d have to shed tears. I swore to myself that all of the above would be minimum requirements for my affection to qualify and be worthy of the name love.



As for you, the one who my heart beats for, what I feel for you exceeds the requirements set above. So much so that I think a new word that explains a feeling greater than love should be invented.