How can love define itself? The answer is no love cannot name its own depth. Yet, it feels the dark… a dark that patiently waits for a single flicker of light. It feels like a wait… a wait that quietly remembers hope. It feels like an ocean, restless and pure, forever chasing its own depth. It feels like a star, shining softly inside the night. It feels like the universe boundless, silent, infinite. — Albatross ✍🏻🕊️