When I told you I loved you, I meant it, but only because I wanted to please you. When I touched you, and my eyes told you I loved you, I meant it because I'm bad at lying. Claire Breaux Poetry is an impish attempt to paint the color of the wind. Loving you contains not one of my emotions, it contains all of them. Dreams aren't in your head.
Dreams are memories of another universe.
A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. You can call it madness, but I call it love. Blushing is the color of virtue. Never frown, someone may be falling in love with your smile. One of the most adventurous things left us is to go to bed.