Where words don't suffice, energy communicates
Learn her heart's mother tongue. When you can speak her language, you can really begin to kiss her.
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest -- blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine.
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre