There are days when love feels like a dance—
not choreographed, just felt.
Two souls balancing between laughter and gravity,
testing the distance, pulling closer again.

We stumble, we play, we pretend to fall just to feel
the warmth of the other’s hand catching us.
It’s not about who leads or who follows,
but about finding rhythm in the in-between—
the space where tension becomes tenderness,
and the pull becomes permission.

Connection, after all, is a moving thing.
It shifts, teases, resists, returns.
And maybe the secret is to hold each other lightly—
not out of fear of losing,
but out of reverence for the freedom that keeps us close.