Revisionist Poetry – LOVE, v6. (Sonnet)

i count the moments when your hand finds mine,
small clockwork measures that unseat the dark.
your smile, a ledger, balances the day;
your voice, an ordered tide, refines my thought.
i learn the grammar of your silences,
repay them with a careful, steady ear.
we argue, not to wound, but to be clearer;
we fail, then practice courage like a craft.
there is no gilded metaphor required:
love is the work of keeping, and of growth.
i give my simplest acts — attend, repair —
and in the end your breathing is enough.
if names must follow reason, then this one
is true: i love you, quietly, and well.