"You are my 5:24am’s, my when-it-rains and my long walks home. You are the pile of drafts I never did finish, tender little notes stuck in dusty pigeon holes and slipped beneath hotel doors, you are faded flowers in the backseat of my car and pajama days beneath the blankets in wintertime. You are the sunlight trapped between the cages of my fingers, blue lips and midnights in Paris, stipple art and eraser shavings leftover from lead-stained hands drawing portraits of a woman. You are autumn withering on my tongue as the fire curls and settles beneath my ribs, you are photographs hanging neatly in rows pinned by chipped clothespins, you are movie ticket stubs and receipts from last year and paperback stacks with annotations scribbled in the bent margins and little sentences, underlined. You are little parts of life I love, little blink-and-you’ll-miss-it split-seconds trapped in brief momentary breaths that slip quietly by- and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than when I am with you."