Is This Not Love?

Look around you, it lays there among the clutter and mess,
The tidy corners and cleaned spills.
There, where dirty socks used to lay or lay still, 
There, where footsteps left their imprints from the rain.
Is this not love?

As I sit alone in the warmth of the bed where your body did lay
As I sit across from your smiling face breaking fast at the break of day
As I kneel in the corner, your arms around my shoulder letting me cry
As I kneel beside our children gazing in wonder pointing to the sky
Is this not love?

In passion, fiery and hot, burning through doubts and hesitations
Fierce in its desire, consuming, explosive, destructive in its intensity
Destroying anything that seeks to separate us on from the other
Flaring hot as it devours; you stand in the embers of discarded dross, pure gold.
Is this not love?

How is this not love when I am here with you?
How is this not love when my heart beats with yours?
How is this not love when the years spent together were the best of my life?
How is this not love when I still love you?

 If this isn’t love
        I never knew what love was
                And I’ll never know what love is

This is for a dVerse prompt: For today’s Poetics, I want you to write a poem about love as something quietly sacred — not just roses and hearts, but the small, unseen ways someone stays. I hope you enjoy.