Love keeps unknown silences —
moments when hearts must speak, but should not,
if only for the sake of our belovéd's peace —
and thus, our own, as well.
Untethered words which might cause harm or dismay,
however innocent their intentions,
are kept secluded within dark corners,
far from the clarity of light,
so it will not reflect its unwanted prisms of melancholy,
of shadows, their separated shards.
When we feel we shall burst from lack of sharing,
we must subject these thoughts to dire analysis before they are set loose;
not everything must be revealed to be understood.
Portents of passion, substances of submission
do not always maintain the sanctity of one's promises;
subdued wings are no less flightworthy.
When we are grounded, the sky is still within our view.
When we are aloft, the earth below looks small and insignificant,
yet we know it is neither.
Perspective is a seduction to which we must not surrender,
as alterations are made with every step.
Love remains a tender bloom, however bright its hue -
it requires constancy and nurturing,
a gentle, knowing hand it can trust.
When obsession is near, we are in danger
of losing what is precious, what is sacred,
those unbearable instants when we do not realize
lasting memories are being born.