But built through time and time alone.
It lives in how we start each day—
And all the things we do, not say.
A gentle glance, a cup of tea,
A brush of hands beneath the tree.
Our language is the quiet way—
We show we care, without cliché.
So let them write their grand essay,
I’ll choose our quiet, steady sway.
For true love’s strongest bond will stay—
In what we never had to say.
— The PastLife]]>