Your words - my love-flu

You said I'm very pretty; that my words are poetry. That I make you so happy, you can't let go of me. "I'm so happy, I can't speak" Is what you said once; however when I talk to you, I can't think straight; seems I'll stay like that forever. Because I get flustered every time you call me "baby", or when you say "Goodmorning, my love" - my life. I won't ever recover from this love-flu. 2025.III.30.