Universal love is the presence that exists before desire.

It breathes without breathing, rests without resting.
It is the quiet pulse behind everything that moves,
the soft gleam underneath every wound,
the light that doesn’t insist on being seen.

It asks for nothing because it is already whole.
Expectation cannot cling to it;
assumption dissolves in its openness.
It is not a need reaching outward —
it is a fullness radiating from within.

This love doesn’t try to be love.
It doesn’t reach for approval or completion.
It doesn’t grip, chase, or bargain.
It simply is —
a silver vibration, subtle and alive,
filling the spaces between thoughts,
between breaths,
between bodies.

A crystalline current moving through the human form,
not to be held, not to be used,
only to be witnessed.
It is the remembrance of our own source,
the core that remains untouched,
unscarred,
unconditioned.

And in the strange, wild hush between moments —
that place where time thins and the self loosens —
it glows.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just true.