Triplets

As soon as three words are spoken, my love,
Their weight becomes weightless, meaning is past,
Too much is lost in translation, my love,
For feelings disguised as mere words to last.
From heart to mind or to paper from hand,
Treacherous tongues steal from feeling all worth,
Love lost, like time passing through captive sand,
Like innocence taken away at birth.
Like emotions walking a tightrope taut,
The brain's balance keeps love alive, until
Through one's words an explication is sought,
And nothingness from numbing lips does spill.
Three words to describe uncountable thoughts,
When I say I love you, I mean all-sorts.