There's only one rule existing: polygamy, is for polygamists. (In love, that is.) Polygamists could be an ancient time emperor, Muslims (...), promiscuous Japanese man, or promiscuous men in general, and etc.
Beauty of love, beauty of being apart -- a perfect movie it is, fades in, fades out -- a romantic reunion, so very romantic. It is cliché, and passé, we well acknowledge that fact, what romance is, that is. We'd knew it, yet we still give in to the romance of romance. Isn't it romantic? Words like "I like you", "I love you" -- romantic indeed. That is, romance is being expressive. Well, it is expressive from the very beginning if you think about it. (... think about it.)
I hate you, I hate you, I love you. Cliché. Phrases gone price hike, they're expensive and get more expensive -- those phrases of utter interjection of love, like, dislike, hate. Indispensable, inexpensive emotions. Ain't it cheap-looking, of us, too?
Clap, clap, clap.
And love is being expressive; must be the reason why it always connote the words romantic, romance, and altogether romantic romance. We give up, give in, submit in -- it's all the same -- like the word romantic and lovey-dovey -- the modern usage indeed, romantic, but unpleasant -- they're the same, but there something appears to be that they're not the same, or rather, divided. Modern word it is -- not so very pleasing. But, it doesn't matter, when it is all about love -- it doesn't matter. Stay in cahoots, a peacock a pair! (Who cares with words today, let romance alone be defined, devil may care.)
Brewery of angst, and the word adultery -- love has become this so much impure. (Devil, indeed, cares.) So we are toying with ourselves, indeed, and beauty is subjective indeed, love, too, is subjective indeed. We are subjects indeed, and love is a subject-possessing object -- now, scream.
'(Girl)!'
'(Boy)!'
(Now that was purely ecstatic.) And too emotional. It's like a slapstick comedy turned dramatic and emotional, or vice-versa, where every little sound ruins the mood, the speakers, and your ears. It's funny how love can be so funny. Oh, the power of love!
In hindsight: let the love begin, take it as a last sweet beating.
Put icing on cupcakes, and eat it. Gasp, motion eyes upward and downward, continuously, snap, and [don't forget to] turn on the lights -- exclaim delight.
Delight!
Temptation, it was what urged me, to shout.
You got love.
We knew it all along: before romance, comes love. So, in whole context, love defines romance, you get love and romance -- that so simply simple. Why decorate cakes, still. Why eat cakes, still. (Laughs.)
