One Liners

If you ask me what misery is, I would say that it is the contagion that languishes my heart in your absence. _ At every sight of you My eyes ooze, sublime happiness of the highest kind. _ Who dare be the voice of censure against the devil in me! _ And if you will; Unlock the altars of my soul with your lips! _ My life exists to repose in your prosodic whims. _ It is your imperfections that make you the totemic goodness in my eyes. _ Child, Sap of Love meanders from thy mother’s breasts to cajole thy untrammelled slumber. _