In the Quiet of You

 In the Quiet of You

I.
Before the world awakens,
I feel you.
Not as a shadow, not as a memory,
but as a pulse beneath my ribs,
a quiet insistence
that bends the morning light
into the curve of your smile.
Even in absence,
you are present—
a rhythm that hums
through empty streets,
through the hush of my breath,
through the spaces
where thought becomes longing.

II.
Love is not always fire.
Sometimes it is the hush of wind
in an empty room,
the slow bloom of sunlight
over ordinary things,
the way a smile
can hold the weight
of an entire universe.
You are that light—
gentle, unassuming, inevitable—
folding into every ordinary moment
and making it sacred.
I have traced the edges of your laughter
like constellations
that only I can read,
and in each curve, each pause,
I find the echo of eternity.

III.
I remember the first time
our hands brushed—
so ordinary, so fleeting,
and yet, for a heartbeat,
the world shifted.
I traced the lines of your palm
as though they contained maps
to lands I had never known,
and in that warmth,
I found a home
I had never dared hope for.

Your voice is a river,
flowing through my veins,
sometimes still, sometimes roaring,
always reshaping the landscape
of my heart.
Even when distance separates us,
it pulls me back,
guides me into orbit,
into the gentle gravity of you.

IV.
I have loved the curve of your smile,
the quiet courage in your eyes,
the way you exist
without apology,
without asking the world
to notice your light.
And in each laugh, each sigh,
each fleeting glance,
I find a universe
woven just for us,
a constellation
etched into the fabric of time.

A kiss is not mere touch.
It is the meeting of worlds,
the collision of breaths,
the folding of two hearts
into one pulse.
When our lips meet,
the world pauses,
and in that brief eternity,
everything becomes possible.
Even the shadows bend,
even time hesitates,
to witness the quiet power
of a single, sacred connection.

V.
I will love you
in sunlight catching your hair,
in laughter spilling through empty streets,
in the pause before sleep,
in every breath shared
and every one taken alone.
You are not just part of my life—
you are its axis,
its gravity, its center.
And in your presence,
I have found everything:
home,
hope,
and the infinite echo
of your name
folded into mine.