They talk about old school and mordern love

While I never got the audacity to generalize love. Love is when I became more of a giver than a receiver. An admirer of his beauty and embedded him in my poems. Butterflies in my stomach and the glitter in my eye. Sipping his coffee while he's sipping mine. Pressing rose petals in my favourite lines and how I eagerly awaited to call him at nine. An umbrella we shared when the rain looked fine, while I'm forever his to hold like he's forever mine.

Therapy sessions via small morning walks little do you know about the good little talks. Cooking for us and being fed by him, how it fulfils a thousand dreams. Watching the stars as my head touch him, passionate kisses with feelings within.

Waking up to rose and flowers, I knew his love was more than he has showered. He stood near my house in the hill, wouldn't wake me up but stand still.If this isn't love I don't know how it feels, does it heals or does it kills.

• Fariha Akter