Cupid and Psyche

If lovers of lovers had a story self-reflect would look upon a river and share old wise tells Would it perhaps be nacrracsitic or shallow Or knee deep to jump in Idealism or fantasy I say turn the page If my child was that of divine whisper among the Hampton of the Heaven’s Thrones and berries that of the fine wine should one bless among each bread basket Yet to say to learn of perfection that of affections attain by the vision to learn of Another language of communication would be Inferior to not that of a touch that of Apparatus as a kiss of hand of risk morning good bed Sleep of a morning covers the way that it wraps around her body would be a gift Send from heaven What wakes turn morning into not such a another day but a beautiful bluish day I said her love Sight and mind give me a vision would be perhaps be common sense If gentlemen attire is to catered to her love passion assure the passage of the storm Apure and tell me how deep is one love If continuum was a option would one value the option perhaps would one said Eternal fatefully gracefully awakes or would old wise tell of such Passion that awakes How rare is Tuberose and Delphinium growing together What beautiful texture and sense it make love among stars Perhaps Apuleius could sing a carol tell if cupid arrow ever MISS the attire Those that ask are welcome tell me if fashion matters? I question not of love but ask does love every grow old