To Be in Love
To be in love
is to wander into another’s light
and find yourself illuminated.
It begins in the quiet spark
the way their passions flicker,
the way their body holds a thousand stories
you ache to learn by heart.
A fascination, tender and wordless,
pulls you closer.
But love is a solitary blooming.
A secret garden grown within the chest,
never owed, never guaranteed.
To expect its mirror in another
is to misunderstand its freedom.
So I let my love breathe.
I let it live without demanding
a matched flame.
To love is to admire the open sky
and never try to claim it.
To walk beside someone
without steering their steps.
To honor their will
as wholly their own.
And still
with no promise, no permission
I choose them.
Everyday, quietly,
as devotion rather than possession.
This is my love:
not a cage,
but a constant,
open-handed light.
