I love the fact
that I get to see you
in ways nobody else
has ever been able to see.
Like the way you laugh
when I feel like being silly
or the hardness in your jawline
after just fighting with your mom
of the flash of mischief in your eyes
right before you kiss me.
I get to see the side of you
that still acts like you're five years old
and brightens immediately
as we run towards a playground.
I notice the aura you have,
as if the air around you
was scattered with flakes of gold.
I get to feel the rush
of your breath on my neck
whenever you're right behind me—
and when it feels like everything in me is empty,
I can know the safety
of being encircled in your arms.
And nobody else
sees these things quite like I can,
because nobody else will ever love you the exact same way.