By: Tanjila Ontu

He never raises his voice,
even when I can tell storms are brewing inside him.
With me, he’s calm—like soft rain on quiet nights.

He tugs my cheeks,
holds my hand,
feeds me the first bite
like love is something he shows instead of says.

He takes my silly pictures,
stares at me like I’m a secret
he was lucky enough to find.

With him, love doesn’t scream.
It whispers,
and somehow, I always hear it.

###

Tanjila Ontu is a student at Northern University Bangladesh with a growing passion for poetry and creative expression. She enjoys exploring emotions and memories through her verses. Writing allows her to reflect, connect, and dream. This is one of her early steps into the literary world, and she looks forward to sharing more of her voice.