In quiet rooms where memory learns to stay,
I hold your name like light against the night,
Not as a chain that binds me to one way,
But as a flame that keeps my compass right.
If love is made of moments we don’t keep,
Yet somehow carry forward in our skin,
Then even silence speaks when we are deep
In thoughts that fold the outer world within.
I do not promise what the wind may break,
But I will guard the truth we choose to share,
And meet each dawn for what our hearts can take—
A fragile trust made stronger by our care.
