Love Is Felt
Not every touch is born from desire,
Some spark warmth, not only fire.
A quiet love, so soft, so true,
A silent whisper: I see you.
Fingers find yours in a crowded space,
A steady hand, a slow embrace.
Circles traced upon your skin,
A touch that says, breathe me in.
A palm that rests upon your shoulder,
A shield of warmth as nights grow colder.
A thumb that brushes, slow and light,
Saying more than words just might.
Arms around you, firm yet free,
Not to claim, but just to be.
Not to hold, yet not to stray,
But to remind you—you’re meant to stay.
For love is quiet, love is deep,
A vow unspoken, yet meant to keep.
It doesn’t shout, it doesn’t tell,
Because real love—it's simply felt.
Copyright © Krishika Upadhyay | Year Posted 2025
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