My Love is My Own

In the dance of hearts, a tale unfolds,
Where love's narrative is rich and bold.
A man's affection, distinct and true,
Not mirrored in what a woman may pursue.

A woman's love, a unique embrace,
Unlike that in a man's warm grace.
Not a carbon copy, not a mere reflection,
Each love carries its distinct affection.

What she gives, what she bestows,
A symphony of feelings that only she knows.
And in return, his heart receives,
A kind of love that only he perceives.

Yet here I stand, a love that defies,
The norms that society implies.
For my heart beats to a different plan,
I love as a woman, not as a man.

For I, a woman, in love with grace,
A tender connection, a sacred embrace.
Her laughter echoes, like a melody,
A symphony of love, profound and free.

A love that's special, not confined,
To societal norms, I've resigned.
For I cannot love as a man may,
But as a woman in my own unique way.

And no affection for a man to claim,
In the language of love, it's not the same.
My love is crafted, distinct and free,
For women, the way a woman can be.

So here's to the beauty of womanly affection,
A love that defies any mere reflection.
In the dance of emotions, a lifelong span,
Loving women, as only women can.