In your light, I unlearn the dark,
its stiffened tongue, its cold resolve.
And I find instead a language made,
of warmth, of wind, of soft dissolves.
Love arrives not like thunder shouts,
but like a candle's trembling vow.
I feel it flickering against my ribs,
teaching my silence how.
In your beauty, verses form,
not sculpted, not conceived by mind.
But breathed, like morning on the rose,
a hush that petals leave behind.
Your grace makes metaphors collapse;
No simile can ever hold your flame.
Instead, I ink the hush between
your heartbeat and my name.
You dance inside my chest, unseen,
no witness, save this thrum I know.
A pulse of presence so profound,
it makes the blood inside me slow.
I do not speak to you, still you move,
a swirl behind my every sigh.
And when I glimpse you, rare and true,
a sacred star falls through my sky.
That sight becomes this trembling art,
not mine, but merely channelled breath.
A prayer-shaped hush, a flame-writ line,
that dares to love beyond all death.
You are the muse, the moon, the sea,
the silence in the shell I chart.
And in the unseen, you shape my song,
where deep in your being, I become art.
Copyright 2025 Savva Emanon ©
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