It is

What is it?
What is it that exists between us?
Try as we might, definitions of love are either too trite or too obscure to really say what it is.

It just is.
It is.
In the moment our eyes lock together amid the mundane. And we know.
It is.

In the twinkle. Yes, the twinkle.
It is.

Yes, in the passion. It is.
But also in the quiet moments when each of us is in our separate world.
Then a touch
   or a look.
And it is.

It is  - in the smile, the tilt of the head, and the familiar mannerisms.
Even in the strife. In the battles both between us and about us.
A bond, though drawn taut, holds.
And we know.
It is.

Who can believe in something so unexplainable,
     so undefinable
          so utterly impossible to detect or measure?

But we believe.
    Because we know.
         It is.