It’s another love one.

What you are to me,
is the ability to be free
and fight with fists and teeth
bared strong, Ivory rows i use to sing along,
to the songs you wash off in my shower.
Three spare toothbrushes later
and I learn to leave the case on.
You are the exception to the rule.
Not just someone along for the ride,
much more than a tool for my journey
but a person who demolishes my need to hide,
enables my want to be learning.
When you leave I find myself yearning
for five more minutes, even though
when you are here I can be
aching for alone.
I can be alone
with you.

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