Love is a marvellous mystery.

You cannot touch it.

Cannot see it.

Yet it's everything.

Try to speak it.

Yet it does not resembles the feeling.

Try to draw it.

Yet it does come close to the experience.

Try to grab it.

Yet it is always a fleeting moment away from you.

Love is

the painters brush,

the writers pen,

the lovers gaze.

Love is

more than heart.

Love is

body, mind and soul.

Love is

the memories that arise

while reading these lines.

Everywhere, yet nowhere.

Everything, yet nothing.

Marvellous.

Mystery.