When the night folds in, love becomes light—

‎a lantern burning in places where sight fails.

‎It whispers that blindness is not emptiness,

‎but a faith stitched into the unseen.

‎

‎Each breath feels braided with another’s,

‎woven tight through ache and radiance,

‎through the storm and the stillness—

‎a fabric both fragile and unbreakable.

‎

‎Love charts no straight line.

‎It is a map inked with destinations and detours,

‎with roads that vanish, only to return again,

‎like rivers remembering their course.