Is it the words I use to paint a picture, of love and butterflies flapping around inside of us when we see that person that makes you ask me that question?
What is poetry, is it the description of love using nature to enhance the words or use as eufemisms, or just the author making an effort while writing?
Is it the licence they give you when you tell her about the beauty she possess when standing on a snowy mountain as the wind blow strains of hair in her face and you see yourself smile in the sun lit reflection of her eyes deeply looking back at you?