You are my life
You are my breath
You are my body
You are my mind
You are my soul
You are my heart.
You see the subtle beauty of language,
Krishna?
Blessed must be those seers
To create the artistic embellishment in language
Of a metaphor.
You're everything I like.
You're the autumn dew on magnolia petals
You're the light dance of sunshine on a chilly December morn
You're the fragrance of fresh butter that mother churns
You're the ripe blueberry that I cannot reach on a tree.
The subtle difference between
What you are
And what you're not
Is bridged by the metaphor.
You're not everything
But you're everything.
Never thought I'd be grateful to
Metaphors.
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