Love is a polyglot, fluent in many tongues,

Yet each word is a melody, carefully strung.

The harp hums softly, an arrow takes flight,

Tell me, how do you say “I love you” tonight?

Do you speak in soft whispers of words outright?

Each syllable weaving a tapestry tight.

Every “I love you” spun with care,

Threads of fabric of words we share.

Does your love speak in touch? In warmth drawn near?

In gentle kisses and a hand held sincere.

A lingering hug, a steady embrace,

A silent promise, letting fears erase.

Or is love a gift? A token so small?

A flower, a letter, a confession to enthrall.

Though simple the offering, heartfelt and true.

The meaning shines through the things we do.

Or maybe love is time well spent,

In laughter, in moments, in quiet content.

Time spent together no matter how brief,

A quiet reminder: a feeling of peace.

Or is love an act, kindness displayed?

A favor, a gesture, effort to be made.

Actions that whisper what words cannot say.

“I love you” spoken in a meaningful way.

So tell me my love, how do you speak?

In touches, in gifts, in words so sweet?

No matter the language in all we do,

I’ll learn every dialect just to love you.