My love for you isn't just a feeling. It's a civilization. It's a group formed in unorganized noise. A commotion of expression purposely existing the sole purpose of you. Living & breathing. A jumbled language overheard. Stenciled with each patter of foot. Every horn honked. Each lane clogged with the thought of you. A foundation built from the ground up in means to explore. A stone age modernized. Misinterpreted by the desire of fire. Protected. Built upon. Built into the tallest building, which I call your name. My love for you is like the plane that flies overhead. Roaring loud in repetition. Tedious nooks & crannies. Places to shop, things to see. All the things I see when I look into your eyes. My love for you a province of sorts. The smell seared in a pan. Best served on a plate for two. A mix of different pastas, vegetables. Fried in upbeat cafe, different aromas. The chit chat different versions of me. Complimenting the very essence of you. A new building erected with cranes and steel beams. Plastered dry wall. Soon opened for your arrival