when he speaks, i think the world falls silent
and in the stillness, i hear a thousand stories unravel.
his golden gaze, like dusk falling over a quiet lake,
leaves ripples where words would never fit.

i could’ve reached for his hand,
but in that space between us,
there was a kind of love that needs no touch,
a language built from everything unsaid.

his smile holds the quiet of a thousand mornings,
each one beginning but never lasting,
each glance a promise of a world unspoken,
where our hearts dance together, yet remain apart.

and i wonder, if i keep listening,
will the silence speak louder than my words?
or will it be the last thing i ever hear,
the echo of a love we never named?