The Language of Love

Love is not just words we say,

But silent glances that light the way.

A whispered name, a fleeting touch,

A heart that beats—perhaps too much.

It’s in the waiting, in the fight,

In holding hands on the coldest night.

In knowing flaws, yet staying near,

In finding strength through every tear.

Love is laughter in the rain,

A gentle balm that soothes the pain.

The way a soul feels safe, at home,

No matter where the feet may roam.

It’s not in promises, bold and bright,

But in the way you hold me tight.

Not in forever—words can fade,

But in the choices, day by day.

So, let us love, not bound by time,

But as a poem, a perfect rhyme.

Not seeking more, nor asking why,

Just you and me—till stars run dry.