This Love (in Taylor Swift albums)

This love is a small town anthem, frenzied curls and brave statements, tall brown boots and unforgettable choices.
This love is something like no other, golden and bedazzled in sequins and unafraid, bold and innocent alike.
This love is slow and real, undeniable, flowing dresses, lush purple, it's a twisting love story, crashing weddings, making every sacrifice.
This love is growing, becoming something so much more than a dream, alive in red autumn, ponderous and soaked in sepia-toned thought.
This love is something classic, red-lipped and grinning from ear to ear, finally awake for the world to see, an air of nostalgia clinging to the edges.
This love is full of snakes, coiling around my middle and squeezing screams out of me---Jealousy, she has painted them black.
This love is entirely romanticized, the most ethereal and unbelieveable, the kind where you can here smiles in voices, pink and filled with rainbows.
This love is a folk song, fallen on the gray scale, staring up at the moon in a cardigan and wondering what kind of summer fantasy this is.
This love is quiet and nostalgic, ridden with tears in between the lines, long and cold winters and slow, sepia revelations made in flannel.
This love is old and new all together, reflecting retro sweaters and moody midnights, delving into the truth, insecurities and auntheticities alike.

This love has no words at all.
This love is every word, and all those to come.
This love isn't something that can be wrapped up in a box and stamped GOOD or BAD on the cardboard flaps in fire-engine red ink.
This love isn't like any other, because it's something that can't be understood like everything else, no matter how hard to try.
That's why it's so torturous, so frustrating, so difficult, so confusing.
That's why it's so beautiful, so real.