He fell for me,
even when my days are quiet,
even if my emotions
remain hidden.

He loves me,
despite my emptiness
and solitude,
the way I don't communicate
because I'm not used to being heard.

He shows me his love,
in the same way painters
and musicians do,
intimately.

He chose me,
even if he wanted someone
who love as loudly as he does,
he found peace in me instead
something he wasn't familiar with,
just as I wasn't familiar with the idea of being loved.