I only listen to your music now
And not only because it's your music
But because it now sounds better than anything else
Your sloppy hairstyle that used to drive me crazy?
It's all I think about sometimes:
The way it frames your face
And helps make you, you.
All of our arguments are precious to me.
No matter who wins, if anyone.
Sometimes I spend the whole day thinking about you.
I have to hold my tongue to refrain from mentioning you always.
But it doesn't always work.
I remember the way that your clothes fit your body.
I don't remember ever looking.
But there it is, the memory, pierced into my mind.
I know all your mannerisms.
We talk about our fears.
Our differences.
Our lives.
We don't talk as often as I'd like.
I don't know what I want to call this.
But until I have a better word...
Is it okay if I call it love?
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