The lover’s struggle is to resist narrowing emotion into a formula, or it slowly passes from poetic metaphor to cliché. Love is a poetry, the re-invention of another as a hero or princess, as the greatest person in the world, even if one fully realizes their flaws. And each of us must be a true poet to love. We are poets when we dream each night. It’s not strictly about writing or verse. We conjure out of nothing films with “scripts” nearly all night every night to rest and revive from a contracted and often cruel waking world. We are all in practice for love quite naturally as dreamers. But the waking dream of love means to constantly practice and compose if one wills beyond infatuation and serial romance. Love is waking to a dream of another soul as the poem of one’s life.