In the silent spaces between our words,
Where glances speak louder than a shout,
There lies a gentle love unheard,
A tender flame never burning out.

In the brush of fingertips unseen,
And the shared smiles that softly bloom,
We find a love both pure and keen,
Growing quietly in the room.

When the world is loud and hearts are fast,
Our love, a secret serenade,
It whispers of a bond to last,
In the quiet, softly played.

So let the world rush by in haste,
Our small love, a gentle grace,
In every moment that we taste,
A quiet place, a warm embrace.