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Echoes Between Us

 Echoes Between Us

I.
In the quiet before the dawn,
your name drifts through my mind
like a river tracing the edges of mountains,
slow, inevitable, unstoppable.
It hums in the hush of morning,
pressing against the ribs of my chest
until I can feel you there,
not as a memory,
not as a dream,
but as something alive,
breathing alongside me
in the same pulse of time.

There is a language in your silence,
a grammar written in the spaces
between your words.
I have learned to read it,
to follow the invisible threads
that stretch from your heart to mine,
delicate yet unbreakable,
like the finest silk
spun across centuries.
Every glance, every sigh,
every curve of your lips
speaks volumes
I cannot contain.

II.
Love is not always fireworks.
Sometimes it is the slow bloom of a flower
under a patient sun,
the way light gathers
in the quiet corners of a room
until it spills like honey
across the floor.
You are that light to me—
warm, constant, unassuming,
yet capable of burning away
the shadows
that have lingered too long.

I remember the first time
our hands brushed.
It was a simple, ordinary thing,
and yet the world shifted
in that brief contact.
I traced the outline of your fingers
as though they contained the map
to everything I had ever lost,
and in their warmth,
I found a home
I never thought I would enter.

III.
Your voice is a river,
flowing through the stillness of my days,
carrying fragments of sunlight,
fragments of dreams
I had forgotten how to reach.
It hums beneath my skin,
and even when you are not near,
it guides me,
pulling me toward you
with a force both gentle and relentless.

I have loved the curve of your smile,
the way your laughter lingers
like the scent of rain on dry earth,
like a secret no one else can touch.
I have loved the quiet bravery
in your gaze,
the way you exist without apology,
without fear,
without need to prove
that the world should bend
to your light.

IV.
When I kiss you,
the universe folds into that moment.
All the noise of existence
falls away,
leaving only the weight of your lips
against mine,
the tremor of breath shared,
the silent acknowledgment
that we are whole
in each other’s presence.
A kiss is not mere touch—
it is the geography of souls,
the mapping of hearts,
a conversation older than words.

Even when distance separates us,
even when days stretch long and hollow,
I carry you with me—
in the tilt of the sky,
in the hush of evening,
in the pulse beneath my ribs.
You are the quiet insistence
that love is not fleeting,
not bound by hours,
not diminished by absence.
It is a current
that flows endlessly,
that bends time itself
to hold us close.

V.
So I will love you
in all the small, invisible ways:
in the pause before sleep,
in the echo of laughter,
in the warmth of sunlight
catching the curve of your hair.
I will love you fiercely,
without measure,
without doubt,
because you are not just part of my world—
you are the world itself,
and in you,
I have found everything
I have ever sought.

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