Sometimes the one who deeply loves is seen as someone who doesn’t really want.
You know it’s love when you find yourself so idyllically tranquil by simply holding her on sight, not in a rush to grab or grasp, to have and perhaps harm.
When the honesty encircling true love turns the intrinsic pleasure attained through lustful desire into something meaningless.
When an unceasing look is worth more than an erratic touch.
When the joy of admiring surpasses the will for possession.
When risking experiencing a little more isn’t what I crave, for this nothing, when shared with her, means so everything.