Love is not always loud,
not the fireworks we paint in songs,
not the kiss beneath a rainstorm,
or the trembling breath between wrongs and rights.

Sometimes,
it’s in the way someone remembers your tea—
not too sweet, not too cold.
It’s in the text that says “home?”
and the reply that reads “almost.”

It’s silence,
but a kind one—
the kind that wraps around you like a soft coat
on a morning you didn’t want to wake up.

Love is found in waiting,
not the anxious kind,
but the steady heartbeat that says,
“I’ll still be here.”

It is eyes meeting across the noise,
and both knowing—
we don’t need to speak to understand.

Love is not perfect.
It bruises, it heals,
it grows tired, then blooms again.
But if you listen closely,
it never leaves.
It just changes the language
in which it speaks.

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LOVE IN PERSPECTIVE was originally published in Picture Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.