I cannot write about the butterflies that wander around the lilies and sunflowers on a sunny day nor about how they tickle my stomach when we kiss while cuddling.
I cannot write about the waves of water that brush the soft sand of beach uncountable times a day nor about how the waves of your hair brush your cheeks while you are working on your sketches.
I cannot write about the sparkling glow of the starry sky with a bright moon shining with them nor about your sparkling eyes that comes handy with your shining smile.
I cannot write about the mountains and valleys and all the beautiful landscapes that God has created nor about your perfect body as if carved by the God himself.
I cannot write about the depth of oceans or the purity of Ganges nor about the beauty of your virtuous heart or the wisdom of your witty brain.
I cannot write about you
nor about love
nor about how much I loved you
and nor about how much you didn’t.