Untamed

You move like something ancient —
not tamed,
not trained,
but deeply known.

You don’t perform.
You are.

A storm contained in skin.
A decision made in silence.
A man who doesn’t ask for surrender —
but creates the ground
where it happens.

You speak in gestures.
You claim without noise.
And when you look,
you don’t search —
you see.

The world may call you wild.
I call you true.

Because in your presence,
I unravel.
Not to fall apart —
but to become
more woman
than I knew I was.