The language of love
Every time that I tell you I love you,
and your eyes drop to the floor,
and I see you asphyxiated by your uncertainty,
I know that nothing is in vane,
and that everything has its purpose.
And mine is to spend my life proving my love to you in actions.
Actions have always spoke louder than words,
and words have always fallen short to a touch.
Words are breath taking,
and a careful collision of bodies restores the breath.
Your movements write a story in an ancient vocabulary.
One day the spark between us will surely be no more,
but love will live to tell the tale,
hidden between the tangle of two bodies,
for all to read who study the language of love.
and your eyes drop to the floor,
and I see you asphyxiated by your uncertainty,
I know that nothing is in vane,
and that everything has its purpose.
And mine is to spend my life proving my love to you in actions.
Actions have always spoke louder than words,
and words have always fallen short to a touch.
Words are breath taking,
and a careful collision of bodies restores the breath.
Your movements write a story in an ancient vocabulary.
One day the spark between us will surely be no more,
but love will live to tell the tale,
hidden between the tangle of two bodies,
for all to read who study the language of love.
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