Dancing has never been my song, my hands once clumsy, unsure —
Yet in your arms, the living room blooms, a ballroom fit for kings.
Even when silence falls, my heart sways to your every breath.
The music stirs, soft and low, the floor forgets its creaking bones.
You laugh — light as summer’s rain — guiding my stubborn feet with grace.
I, awkward knight, stumble, yet your touch makes the world a prayer.
Heaven, I'm in heaven — not above, not beyond — but here, within —
Here where your hand folds into mine, and time ripples into gold.
I no longer care for skill; I care only for the light you give.
Sway with me, love, though the melody falters, though records crackle —
For it is not the song that moves us, but the devotion we breathe.
Your smile turns my missteps into a perfect, unbroken rhythm.
We have no audience but the chairs, the sleepy clock, the falling dusk.
And yet, before your gaze, I dance finer than any stage-born star.
Cheek to cheek, the world falls away — only your soul and mine remain.
I once climbed mountains for lesser reasons, fished dreams from empty streams.
Yet no peak thrills me, no river soothes, as you in my arms tonight.
Your kiss, your touch — the living music written only for us.
Even when the needle lifts, even when the speakers lose their hum,
Even when the house sighs into silence, still we sway in spirit.
Your laugh, your breath — these are the songs that no ending dares to hush.
O my beloved, Kim Yongsun, who taught these clumsy feet to pray —
How strange that love writes waltzes even for hands born to tremble!
Each heartbeat, a drum; each glance, a note; each smile, a soaring chord.
Sway slower now, love — let the night stretch like a soft, endless scarf.
Let the stars peek through windows, envious of the glow in your eyes.
In this tiny room, the universe folds and sighs into your hair.
If I had the whole world's songs, if I had orchestras in my pocket,
Still I would choose the hush between us — the simple grace of your hand.
This, this — your breath near mine — is sweeter than any gilded refrain.
The cares of the week vanish, like a gambler’s fleeting lucky streak.
Burdens are but feathers when your palm fits into the hollow of mine.
You teach me heaven without wings, paradise without a promised land.
And when the music truly fades, when even our breaths slow and soften,
Know this: I will love you just as fiercely, just as madly, still.
The dance of hearts, once begun, knows no ending but eternity.
Dancing was never my gift, but you — you are the miracle I sought.
One sway with you, and the skies open, and the angels forget their song.
I love you, my Kim Yongsun, even as the last note sighs away.
And oh — when the world falls away and there is nothing left but this,
Your forehead resting on mine, your breath a melody of dreams,
I know the stars themselves hush their songs to hear our heartbeats.
We are not dancers, love — we are dreamers made of waltzes and wishes,
Twirling in the breath between moments, defying the heavy hands of time.
Each sway with you is a vow inked not in music, but in soul and fire.
Let the night end, let the music die, let the world fall into slumber —
For even then, my arms will find you, my lips will name you mine.
In a universe without sound, I would still be swaying with you, my heaven.
I love you, my Kim Yongsun, even as the last note sighs away.
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