I do not need to speak your name

for it to live inside me.

It lingers on my tongue, soft as a prayer,

heavy as the weight offunsaid things.

I do not need to touch you

to feel the echo of your hands.

You are written in my skin,

a story I never finished,

a song that hums beneath my ribs.

Even in this quiet,

even when the world forgets,

even when the distance swallows the sound—

I will still love you.

Not in grand declarations,

not in reaching arms,

but in the hush of midnight,

in the space where words have failed,

in the silence that carries your name

like a secret only I will ever know.