If you love someone,
You'd wait.
The moonlight would bless your skin,
As you curled up intertwined,
'The one for me,'
You'd murmur
And your love would smile,
As your words mean more than a shiver of pleasure.
The touch of your hand against their chest,
The heart beating steadily under your ear,
The curve of lips against your shoulder,
The soft, breathless chuckle followed by a smile that could **** you,
The colour of eyes, either dark or light, but always filled with messages.
If you love someone,
You'd wait for them,
You'd apologise ahead of time,
You'd do what it takes to keep them,
Their smiles,
Their laughter.
Only the sweetest ambrosia was this feeling,
Loving so hard your heart would ache when they weren't around.
When you love someone,
You'd hope to catch up if you're behind.
Love, can I..
..Still catch up to you?
The words you so desire to speak out loud.
Sometimes they're the ones behind,
So you'll wait for them,
Pause in the street for them to jog up to you,
Wait with your children, for the years to come and for them to return.
Like a soldier after war,
Like a sailor loving you after months at sea,
You'd wait patiently,
But would they wait?
If you're behind,
If it were you fought those wars,
Would they wait?
Love doesn't need to be gifts and giant gestures.
It's waiting.
Waiting despite the years,
Until you're both skeletons buried together beneath the soil,
With stones above that say your names and your loves.
When mourning words and pained tears hit the dirt.
When flesh meets flesh, and a sheen of sweat covers skin.
Is it really love?
'Hook up' culture with the sounds of moaning and the rush of pleasure.
But it's a fast high that passes quickly.
Waiting takes years,
Waiting is love.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 5:23 PM UTC
If you love someone,
You'd wait.
The moonlight would bless your skin,
As you curled up intertwined,
'The one for me,'
You'd murmur
And your love would smile,
As your words mean more than a shiver of pleasure.
The touch of your hand against their chest,
The heart beating steadily under your ear,
The curve of lips against your shoulder,
The soft, breathless chuckle followed by a smile that could **** you,
The colour of eyes, either dark or light, but always filled with messages.
If you love someone,
You'd wait for them,
You'd apologise ahead of time,
You'd do what it takes to keep them,
Their smiles,
Their laughter.
Only the sweetest ambrosia was this feeling,
Loving so hard your heart would ache when they weren't around.
When you love someone,
You'd hope to catch up if you're behind.
Love, can I..
..Still catch up to you?
The words you so desire to speak out loud.
Sometimes they're the ones behind,
So you'll wait for them,
Pause in the street for them to jog up to you,
Wait with your children, for the years to come and for them to return.
Like a soldier after war,
Like a sailor loving you after months at sea,
You'd wait patiently,
But would they wait?
If you're behind,
If it were you fought those wars,
Would they wait?
Love doesn't need to be gifts and giant gestures.
It's waiting.
Waiting despite the years,
Until you're both skeletons buried together beneath the soil,
With stones above that say your names and your loves.
When mourning words and pained tears hit the dirt.
When flesh meets flesh, and a sheen of sweat covers skin.
Is it really love?
'Hook up' culture with the sounds of moaning and the rush of pleasure.
But it's a fast high that passes quickly.
Waiting takes years,
Waiting is love.
