there is depth to "I love you."

there isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for you— not one mountain I wouldn’t drag myself over, not one storm I wouldn’t walk straight into, not one reason I’d ever forget to say “I love you.”
I’d haul my own corpse through a thousand fields of rock and broken glass— never pausing to pluck the shards from my skin— just to reach you, hand you my heart, and watch the shadow in your eyes finally lift.
and if the world tried to pry you from me— if the wind screamed your name and the dark begged you back— I’d anchor myself to your palms, tie my soul around your ribs, and swear, by every bruise I’ve ever carried, you’re not going anywhere alone.
if I had no voice, no mouth, no throat, I’d still find a way to speak— carve sound out of silence if I had to— bend the air with my bare hands until it remembered how to talk— just so you could hear me say, “I love you.”
and even if my body failed, even if my bones grew quiet and my heart forgot its rhythm, I would linger in the soft spaces— the hallways of your memory, the glow behind your eyelids— and whisper it anyway, over and over, until the echo of me felt like warmth again.