I have always loved _Beauty and the Beast_, loved the slow burn, the sharp edges, the way love doesn’t start as love but as something jagged, something unsure, something clawing at the walls of its own chest. I love the kind of love you can _see_ grow, not in words but in actions in the way hands hesitate before they touch, in the way eyes soften before they speak, in the way a monster learns how to be gentle. And maybe once, that was the love I wanted. Love that fought first and softened later. Love that burned before it healed. Love that felt like a battle, because battles meant passion, right? But the love I want now it’s not war, it’s peace. It’s stepping into your space and feeling the weight slide off my shoulders. It’s silence that isn’t awkward, just full. It’s looking at you and wondering what parts of your mother live in your laugh? what parts of your father rest in your voice? what parts of you are yours alone? And when we lay together, I don’t want distance. I want to be so close the air feels like an intruder, feels like it is third-wheeling, so close that our breaths tangle, so close that my heartbeat syncs to yours like it was always meant to. I used to think I wanted a love that had to be earned, a love that fought to exist. But now, I want love that is _already there._ Love that fills my cup before I even realize I’m thirsty. Love that is so full, so steady, that I never have to wonder if it’s mine. But I love Beauty and the Beast ```audio-player [[my awesome audio file.mp3]] ``` ```audio-player [[Slam poem (beauty and the beast).mp3]] ```