I like you because you rub my back when we're lying on my tiny bed on the floor.
I like you because you fix the sheets for me when they fall off.
I like you because I always find myself looking at you when you sleep; your shirt is lifted up just the tiniest bit at the bottom and I want to kiss the little tan island of smooth skin that's there.
I like you because you'll follow me wherever I go.
I like you because of your big hands and the way they feel when you slide them around my waist.
I like you because of that time you drank too much and told me that I looked beautiful and that you didn't understand me.
I can read everyone else. Why can't I read you?
And sometimes I wonder if you'll remember me after the end of our days between the warm sky and dirty soles of our bare feet.
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