We met where books and silence blend,

Not knowing love was ‘round the bend.

One moment there, just hand in hand,

Like fate had drawn a soft command.

You pulled me close without a word,

No sound, no shout, no echo heard.

Just steps that danced along the floor,

And pages we’d not read before.

No fairy tale, no perfect cue,

Just library lights and something new.

You held my hand, I held my breath,

And walked with you, in love and depth.

Now every time the pages turn,

I feel that grip, that quiet burn:

For books can teach, and books can end,

But you, my love, were more than pen.