One day I looked at you and it occurred to me how beautiful your smile was.
I heard music in your laughter—I saw poetry in your words. You asked me why I had that look on my face, as though a shadow had fallen across its sun-drenched landscape, heavy with premonition, dark with revelation.
The second I tried to tell myself I wasn’t in love was the moment I realized I was.
By Lang Leav
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