Silently, with his eyes,
(as he watched her
tell a story he’s heard a thousand times)
he whispered
I love you

In the quiet, with his ears,
(listening to her
talk about her cousin’s wedding three years ago
and the botched bouquet toss)
he whispered
I love you

Soundlessly, with his hands,
(he did then, as he does now,
handing her a tissue to wipe away the tears of laughter)
he said
I love you

With reserve, his mouth,
(savoring the oolong tea
which she sipped that night after the wedding
with her grandmother at the lake house)
said
I love you

Faintly, as he inhaled,
(noticing the same scent of perfume
she wore ever so gently that day)
he said
I love you

He, to her,
(that night, for the first time –
this night for the thousandth)
without speaking, said
you’ll never know how much I love you