Love is a word many attempt to define with terms of grandeur and loyalty of endearment and faith of humanity…mine, simply a word of ploy and lust the kind of word we use when broken promises become a truth. Love is to men like you a power over promissory treasures, a key to the box Pandora. A man will say the words he knows and miss the words he feels inside, yet a woman is the words she feels and may let the moment lose the words she knows. I am but a wall to these words neither knowing nor feeling they are my triumph and my failure. He is my start and I am my end…this love exists in these moments too.