All I see is you.
I lay in the same bed we touched and spoke so deeply and widely about our futures in.
The same bed in which we made love for the first time, running our fingers so carefully across each others limbs, as if we were so fragile any sudden move would shatter us.
The same bed in which we laid in complete silence, but the silence wasn't awkward, and instead was poetic.
Oh, you had a way, of making everything poetic.
