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I love you not for what you do,
Or how you make my heart feel new.
Not for the light you cast my way,
Or the warmth that fills my day.

I love you simply, deeply so,
In ways you may not even know.
For who you are, for just being there,
A presence I’m honored to share.

In the space where doubt resides,
Love stretches out, undivides.
Unshaken by what’s yet unseen,
I hold you close, pure and serene.

No need for promises, no grand demands,
Just open hearts and holding hands.
For love, when true, is never done—
It’s a river, ever flowing, always one.

So here we stand, in moments unsure,
And still, my love remains secure.
For in this uncertain, shifting hue,
I love, simply because you’re you.
In this moment, I love you not for what you do, but for who you are. My love isn’t waiting for certainty or promises. It exists here and now, simply because you do.
Laura Slaathaug May 2017
Try to write when you are happy.

How do you write windshields with blue skies on                              

long car rides, window rolled down, wind in hands;

your bedroom ceiling at golden hour,

light from your window bent into a striped                                        

rainbow of sea-green, yellow, and coral;

your niece cackling, lobbing a blue balloon                                          

to your sister, who holds baby Sawyer;

your cat purring, folding into your side                                                  

a thousand times like a origami crane;

the trees bursting with red-pink and white blooms                          

that quickly appeared in the last few weeks;

if that, like the peace you have now, you          

don’t notice them til the petals

have left the branches

piece by piece?
Posting my final edit again because the website seems to be working. Sorry!

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