Yet another poem about love.

Why is it that beauty grows when your in love with the withholder?
Its as if our minds our playing tricks with our eyes,
as to convince ourselves that their face is as beautiful as their soul.
These illusions are what make love so amazing.
The excitement that everday shall be more productive than the last.
Everyday filled with progression and advancement of emotions.
Everyday more in love.

Love is one big illusion.
An illusion more beautiful than any other.
Still,
the mystery in it all,
the missing piece in my personal outlook is the lingering question "Why does love seem so real?".

Why we love and how we love,
i will never know.
All I know is that I'm in love,
and have been my whole life.
I am in love with his beautiful body.
I am in love with his beautiful face.
But most of all,
I am in love with his beautiful soul.





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