(A thousand sonnets mark this lie)
To tell you why I feel this way
(Or what I feel, before the why).
The sun is not more welcome here
Than is the smile on your face;
And while it only shines when clear
No clouds can darken our embrace.
I use the same words once again
Remixed in patterns barely new
To tell the world--I loved you then
And still continue to love you.
There's limits to what can be said
But love's sole limit's when I'm dead.
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