You,

If I am like a poem then everything about you is like a photo album

I gather all your expressions and organize them chronologically

I look back through your pages and taste the moment for a second time

We speak in a series of hushed tones underneath your comforter

And everything is golden

In the late hours of the night and early minutes in the morning

We do not hesitate to surrender ourselves

And find comfort in knowing that we are not alone

In the aftermath you recite to me my favorite line

And I join you in your affectionate homicide

The future is uncertain. This we already know.

But in the time it takes us to exchange a single kiss

I allow myself to fall in love in college and think to myself

I'm such an idiot

But let's give it another go.