A poem
Love is a many silent thing,
a language spoken without words.
It is the soft touch of hands,
the meeting of eyes,
the shared smiles that speak volumes.
It is a dance of fingers spelling out affection,
a conversation in the quietest of rooms.
Within the silence,
there is an orchestration of emotions,
a melody of understanding that needs no sound.
It is a bond that transcends spoken language,
a connection that is felt in the heart.
For those who cannot hear,
love becomes a silent sonnet,
a poem written in the air
with hands and eyes.
This is the beauty of silent love,
the unspoken affection that echoes
loudly in the quietest of hearts.