Explaining One’s Heart

The Reason I Love You
1012.2025

You ask me why—
as if love requires proof,
as if a bird must explain
why it moves from blossom to blossom,
trembling in the hush
between fragrance and flight.

Still—
I will try.

I love you
because when I sit alone in the dark,
I notice a small bird
fluttering from bud to bud—
drawn not by beauty alone,
but by its ache of belonging.

I watch it settle—
soft, deliberate—
and think
how it must love
the way the blossom opens
without promise,
and how it must thank the sky
for the weightless hush
and star-silver quiet
that kisses its wings
mid-song.

That is how my love lives—
not spoken,
but breathed:
in stillness,
in return,
in the long flight
between your eyes.

And yet,
because the heart wars for what it loves,
I never know
if that’s enough—
if my reasons will quiet
the child in you
who still asks.

So as the sun rises,
and I end this poem,
I sigh—
knowing you will read it,
and still not understand.

And I will love you
just the same.

— m.c.f.