I always find myself getting caught in the misalignment of your teeth, tripping over the angles of your smile and drowning in the sound of your voice telling me stories about the place you grew up. The sound of your voice carries the same comforting familiarity that a child feels when they notice that the clouds never cease to leave their side on a long car ride. What you don't see is that I am merely a cloud of stardust floating like the smoke of an exhaled cigarette and you are a whole universe that I could get irrevocably lost in. Except I hope I'm not like nicotine to you, because love isn't about addiction or obsession it's about comfort and just like how I never forget to lock my door at night because I feel safer with a tiny piece of metal separating the outside from me, I feel so safe in your arms even though they're merely just pieces of flesh.