Love poem or end-of-love poem?

It's the quiet ones. 

It's the quiet touch.

It's the quiet smile.

It's the quite breath on her lips.

It's the quiet way that he over laps his toes when hes nervous.

It's quiet why she looks at the bruise on her leg.

It's the quiet way that he watches her look at the bruise on her leg.

It's the quiet was that sun leaves the room.

It's the quiet way that eyes meet.

It's the quiet way that time moves.

It's the quiet way that the smile is gone from that freckled face.

It's the quiet way that you get older.

It's the quiet way that he runs his fingers through his hair instead of on her back.

It's the quiet way that the dust rolls in.

It's a quiet way.

-K