Modest love

You are imperfect

I know that

and yet I feel the safest I have

in a long time

I don’t feel fear or anxiety

but security and safety

I don’t feel the storm of a passion

that’s short lived, intense and dramatic

but the ebb and flow of a slow love

a love that doesn’t need to flash its colours

or parade its feathers

A love that speaks in the quietest of moments

like the squeeze of a hand

or a phone call late at night

a shoulder to cry on

A love that’s there,

A love that’s home