We don’t rush, we take our time,
Like verses living in a rhyme.
Every glance becomes a page,
That deepens more with every stage.
I don’t want a fleeting thrill,
But love that lingers, soft and still.
You’re the sweetest kind of slow,
Like rivers that just know where to go.
You hold my heart so patiently,
Like you were always meant for me.
We don’t rush, we take our time,
Like verses living in a rhyme.
Every glance becomes a page,
That deepens more with every stage.
I don’t want a fleeting thrill,
But love that lingers, soft and still.
You’re the sweetest kind of slow,
Like rivers that just know where to go.
You hold my heart so patiently,
Like you were always meant for me.