When I love, the world changes

When I love,

it is not small.

It is not careful.

It does not knock.

It arrives like a storm with a name,

like a city learning its own heartbeat,

like the moment before the earth remembers

how to burn.

When I love, oceans rearrange themselves.

The stars lean closer.

Time forgets its own rules

and circles us like a loyal animal.

I do not love halfway.

I love as if I have been waiting lifetimes

to recognize you.

I love like empires love their myths,

built on longing,

sustained by belief,

glorious even when they fall.

I would cross years for you.

I would tear open the quiet and live inside it.

I would choose you in every universe

where your name is spoken differently

but still sounds like home.

My love is not gentle.

It is sacred.

It is fire wrapped in silk.

It is devotion without armor.

I do not ask if love is safe.

I ask if it is true.

And when I give it,

I give it as a kingdom gives its crown:

not to be returned,

not to be measured,

only to be worn.

This is the way I love,

like the end of the world

and the beginning of one.