Secret Love

It lives in the spaces between words, in glances held a moment too long, in the silence that speaks louder than any confession could. It hides behind casual smiles, woven into the fabric of ordinary days, a shadow that follows without being seen, a whisper carried by the wind. No name, no claim, just the ache of what cannot be, the warmth of a fire never lit, yet always burning. It grows in quiet corners of the heart, thriving on distance, fed by the fear of what might break if spoken aloud. And yet, it is as real as breath, as constant as the sky-- unseen, unheard, but never unfelt.