English
They say English is the universal tongue,
but how can it hold what the heart spills?
“I love you” falls short, a cup too small
for the ocean swelling inside me.
Words slip between us,
like a river’s current,
carrying meanings that never quite reach
the shores of your soul.
In my language,
in the pulse beneath my ribs,
there are unspoken things,
whole worlds this language cannot shape,
syllables of longing,
of tenderness.
What I want to say
is more than “I love you,”
more than vowels can capture
it’s the way I breathe your name
in the quiet moments,
the spaces between your laughter
and my gaze resting on you.
There is no translation
for the way my heart leaps
or the way your presence stills
every storm.
When I say “I love you,”
so much is missed –
what I mean
is everything.
