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Some things are worth dying for, but what are they?

Could it be the way your laughter sounds to my ears or the way your mouth curls up when you’re happy?

What about the colour of your hair and the way it smells after a hot shower?

Why not the shape of those bubbles as you blew them away, hanging your feet over the edge of that bridge on that midsummer’s night?

Is it the way you can make me laugh with every silly thing you do, or the way you were able to pick me up over one shoulder when you were through with my randomness?

Or could it be your voice, melodious and wonderfully pitched; music to my ears, that comforts and surrounds me as you once did?

Of all the things worth dying for, it would have to be you.