The ways of love

A chipped teacup, warmed in my hands,
Is love when you stir in the honey, unasked,
Knowing my morning starts slower than sands
Drifting and dabbling, until the sun is tasked.
A hand, brushing my unkempt hair from my eyes,
While folding laundry, a simple grace,
A silent promise beneath the morning skies,
Finding beauty in this ordinary place.
What else is love? What are its ways?
A shared glance across a crowded room, eye to eye.
More than a look, perhaps a secret sign,
In an instance what I thought was a coincidence,
Was a proclamation you were mine. 
Love, as I see it, isn’t loud and bold,
Inexpressive in its purest form, it’s a poem told,
Where you tilt the umbrella to shield me while you take the rain,
Where you gently mark the book where I drifted off and clench me in your arms,
Where you silently place a glass of water for me by my bed before I sleep,
Or when you carefully tiptoe the wooden part of the room just not to wake me up.
Love, my darling, is an oversized jacket I help you put on before we leave for a holiday.
Love, my darling, is going unnoticed, and still loving its ways.

Iftehaz Yeasir Iftee, a student at IBA, University of Dhaka, is a featured poet in the global anthology Luminance under the pseudonym Brotibir Roy.