Love, Not in Gazing

Not in gazing, no—
not in locked eyes, drowning, swirling, dissolving into soft-focus dreams,
not in whisper-stitched moonlight confessions,
not in the violin-tuned heartbeat syncopations of skin meeting skin meeting silence.

Love is—
not in a rose-laden banquet of I adore yous dipped in chocolate,
not in handwritten symphonies of pet names curling like the ivy around tired windows,
not in golden rings or eternal promises wrapped in pink-ribbon breath.

Love—
is two shadows bending toward the same slanted horizon,
feet bruised from the journey but still moving, still moving, still moving.
Love is—
calloused palms holding not just hands but maps,
compasses, scars, a compass made of scars,
a constellation of missteps leading to an unseen shore,
where the tide hums the hymn of us, still us, always us.

Love is—
the wind between two bodies standing side by side,
not touching, not needing to,
yet knowing.

Love is—
not in the frantic gravity of lips finding lips
but in the stillness of knowing lips could, but need not.

Love is—
the same direction,
the same impossible road,
the same endless song,
sung off-key,
sung together.


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Love is—
standing at the edge of reason, backs turned to nostalgia,
hands aching for yesterday but reaching for tomorrow.

Love is—
not in the perfect moment but in the spaces between,
the hesitations, the deep-breath pauses, the almost-walked-away-but-didn’t.

Love is—
a rebellion against solitude,
a quiet riot in the marrow of existence,
a war waged not in possession but in surrender—
not to each other, but to the journey.

Love is—
not in the fireworks, the violins, the scripted echoes of stories told a thousand times,
but in the subtle shifting of weight,
the adjusting of pace,
the knowing when to run, when to wait, when to simply be.

Love is—
watching the same sky with different eyes,
arguing over the shape of the clouds,
learning that both perspectives are true,
that truth itself is elastic in the presence of love.

Love is—
not the fear of losing, but the courage of letting be.

Love is—
the shared silence after the storm,
the rebuilding, the redefining, the unspoken contract of again and again and again.

Love is—
the long road,
the same direction,
the ceaseless becoming,
the unraveling,
the finding,
the losing,
the finding again.

Love—
not in gazing,
but in going.

#Love #Poetry #Relationships #DeepConnections #ExistentialLove #SoulConnections #JourneyOfLove