You are crushed up candy hearts. You are a song that gets stuck in my head for weeks on end. You are skin on skin. You are heat. You are electric. You are my journal, the one I lost and still cry over. You are forgotten movies and discarded shirts. You are meeting me half way. You are meeting me at the bridge. You are desire. You are coming home after the longest day. You are what it feels like to have your bones settle in. You are sweaty palms and wet lips and sparkling eyes. You are comfort. Have you noticed that all of my poems start with "you" these days? There are two hearts left on your bedroom floor and while one may be mine, they both belong to you.