Drunk On Your Beauty

I’ve never understood the phrase “madly in love”—not until I saw you.
It’s like looking at you flips a switch inside me, where everything blurs into a golden haze.
Suddenly the whole world feels like this sacred, secret tavern, and I’m dizzy in the middle of it.
Your presence is intoxicating, but it isn’t just about beauty.
It’s the way my heart pulses—waves rippling out, erratic and full—asking, what have you done to me?
There’s a chaos to this feeling, but it’s the kind of mess that begs for meaning.
And in the swirl and rush, clarity emerges:
Madness isn’t hard to understand when you’re the reason.
You are so easy to understand because my heart has never been louder or clearer than in your light.
Call it wild, call it foolish—but I wouldn’t want it any other way.