Love is another dimension, where wisdom begets folly, and folly begets pains so deeply entrenched that the mind mistakes it for joy
Eyes are blinded by fables and only parables spill form the heart, parables that only the object of the portal can decipher
In this space and time, there is no space nor time, only being
And even if you know you do not belong in that particular dimension, once you are there you are trapped
Like a black hole that is not black, but white
Whitewashed
Love bears a child called regret, and every love has born that son
But if by chance you do enter the dimension through the correct portal
You are like the stars surrounding the white hole, one in a million.