I’ve had coming home and I’ve had fireworks and then, and then, there’s you.
And you are, heartfelt smiles on the face of a stranger, And you are, fields of flowers with faces tipped to the sun, And you are, fogged bathroom mirrors painted in condensation hearts.
And you, you are, a resolution worth keeping, and keeping, and keeping.
not the first poem I wrote for you, but maybe the first you knew was yours