My heart is not merely a vessel of blood and breath, but a chamber of meaning, heavy with worth. It is weightless, yet it carries the gravity of you a silent cosmos where your name is the only constellation. What value has gold, if it trembles before fire? What value has wisdom, if it cannot unveil eternity? Yet in loving you, I discover both treasure and truth a currency older than time, richer than forever. You have not filled me; you have revealed me. Love is no ornament, but an essence and my heart, because it holds your flame, is no longer mine, but a sanctuary of endless worth.
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