I know each line of your face 
like verses in a poem 
I’ve memorized by heart
the gentle curve where laughter lives
the faint crease of past storms 
weathered in silence
the soft trace time has dared 
to leave near your eyes
not as a thief but as an artist
each line is a map
of joy 
of ache 
of sleepless wonder
I’ve traced them with my eyes 
a thousand times
and still they catch me off guard
like a favorite song played 
slow and low in the dark
to know your face 
is to know a story
without needing words
a story that keeps unfolding
even when you’re still