Value

His hands are always warm, like they were made for my cold ones
His insecurities never goes away, and he needs me to reassure him
He's dark and light in all the best ways that someoe could be both
His handwriting is a scrawl of an angel and he knows it
Spend a second in his arms and you'll spend the rest of the night smelling him on your sweater
His morals and beliefs will save a life someday and if he has anything to do with it, it won't be his
There will never be another person out there for him who fits so perfectly into his life like I do, but that's the one thing I don't know how to tell him