Larry strolled up to Louise, his knees a little weak. He held out his hands and started to speak:
“I’m Larry, nice to meet you, I just want to say, you look enchanting in every single way.”
Louise… looked confused, as she couldn’t understand, the silent gestures of the nice-looking man.
You see, Larry and Louise—they live in different worlds. Louise, she can hear even the sounds of the squirrels.
But our lively lad Larry lost his hearing at age three. To a life of lonely silence, cursed was he.
Alas, good ol’ Larry, earnest and true, wouldn’t let go of his feelings until Louise knew.
Larry pulled out a pen, and he started to write, “You look lovely, Louise, are you free tonight?” It started with a dinner, then a picnic in the park. Six months, a year—soon they’re never apart.
A love born in silence; no words can compare
To the language they created, the one only they share.

A language
Of stargazing, dreaming of tomorrow
Of wiping tears from cheeks, mending hearts filled with sorrow
Of graceful touches, a caress, a gentle kiss on the neck
Of support and ambition, mutual respect
Of sunshine and storm clouds, ice and fire
Of I need spaces and embraces, passionate desire
Of home-cooked meals on the couch, ice cream for dessert
Of sweatpants and slippers, even a cozy sweatshirt.
A language
Of Larry and Louise, unspoken but heard.
For true love you can feel, without needing a word.