The Language of Us
There is a language we both know,
That needs no words, no voice to show.
It’s in the way your fingers trace
The morning light across my face.
It’s in your pause before you speak,
The way your eyes grow soft and weak
When you see me after the day—
And all the stress just fades away.
We speak in glances, hands held tight,
In sleeping close throughout the night.
In silent “stay” and wordless “please,”
In sighs and breaths and shared release.
This language isn't taught or planned,
But built from time and open hands.
It’s learned in comfort, learned in care,
And only lovers know it there.
So if I never say aloud
How much you lift me from the crowd,
Just look and feel and you will know—
In every act, my love does show.
