The Language Of My Heart

It speaks only what appears. It synthesizes only what glares but in it's epitome does steam the truth of the magic it bears.
Variantly do the tides appear. Joy is just increased in my stare. When I blink my curiosity. The love call that subtends in my honesty has to be framed beautifully. When I enlighten my senses then I glide in the shining beau of my roses fragrance.

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