When Love

I can feel it,

the fragile tremor of your hand in mine,

as if the whole world’s weight

rests between our palms.

The air is thick with things unsaid,

the kind of silence that listens back.

We stand on the edge of something unnamed,

a pause so full it hums with possibility.

Your eyes hold that question

you’re too careful to ask,

and I,

I answer it anyway,

without words.

Time stutters.

The sky leans close,

and for one breath,

we forget how to let go.

Everything that matters is here:

your heartbeat,

my hesitation,

the pull of something larger

than either of us can explain.

Then it changes.

Not suddenly,

but like a soft tide giving way to calm.

I see it,

not the ending,

but the staying.

Love isn’t the grasp;

it’s the grace that holds steady

when the world wants to break apart.

You look at me,

and there’s no need for rescue,

no promise demanded,

just that quiet knowing

that holding on

doesn’t always mean never letting go.

Sometimes it means choosing

to stay

anyway.