not an emotional polyglot

I never spoke the language of love

until you became the author of my life's verses.

I never deemed myself an emotional polyglot,

preferring the solitude of my internal symphony.

Yet, when you arrived,

offering solace and a refuge for my weary thoughts,

I comprehended.

Now I understand why the language of love

is a peculiar, intimate script, defying explanation.

Though our verbal exchanges have waned,

don't be deceived,

our language isn't extinguished because it's unspoken.

The vibrant hues of our love-poems linger,

etched in memory like an artist's palette.

Blindness doesn't instill fear,

for the resonance of our love's melody persists,

echoing Stevie Nicks' truth –

you can never escape the haunting sound of a woman's love