You are the smell of bonfires and the smoke on my sweatshirt, and I see you in the breath curling from my lips on a cool November morning, and you are every raindrop streaking down my window and the roll of thunder in the distance, and you are the feeling of denim on skin and you are the black coffee on my tongue and you are running through every one of my veins, you have sunk into every one of my pores, you are as much a part of me as my own beating heart.
