Love.

I love you.

It's a three word phrase,

But it can be said many ways,

Many dialects,

Many languages.

It can be said,

Or it can be showed.

It can be what slows you down,

Or what makes you go.

And we wonder,

And guess what it means.

To love.

To be loved.

To be in love.

To me love doesn't sound like l-o-v-e. Love sounds like two voices

In the dark of night,

Whispering over the phone.

It sounds like the rubbing of skin,

As a gentle caress.

Love looks like travelling miles,

By train,

By car,

By foot,

By plane,

Just to close the gap between our kiss.

Love to me is spending hours,

And hours,

Dreaming of making you my missus.

It's not a giant ring,

Or a great wedding.

It is you in a dress

Walking towards me

With that gleam in your eye.

And now,

I hear love in your laugh

and in your voice.

I see it in every freckle,

Every mile.

Love has become our kiss.

The feeling of your touch,

Of our fingers intertwining,

Of my lips closing on yours.

Love is the safety I feel in your arms.

I find myself wanting to get lost in us.

In those deep blue eyes,

I could go swimming for hours.

I pull away from a kiss feeling drunk

And unstable.

But also euphoric.

As if I have found peace.

As if I have found love.

And I have.

I know it is every time I hear your laugh.

I can tell by how I think you look beautiful in anything,

Baggy shirts,

Or knee length tight faded pink shorts.

I see it in the way you dance so carelessly.

And I see it in the stars,

They remind me of you.

So small.

But yet, they light up the darkest nights.

Like how you lit me up.

So love.

No matter how you say it.

It‘s not a three word phrase,

It's something I hear in your song.

It's something I feel in your touch.

Something I taste in your kiss. Something I see in your eyes.

It's not a three word phrase.

It's a two letter word.

Us.