My love.

Maybe like all the others, I should call you babe because you're my best half,
But I prefer to call you, my magic door because eachtime you smile, you instantly take me to the city of peace, no matter what hell I find myself in,
Out of all the love languages, I prefer mine to be holding space for all versions of you,
My one and only, to whom I arrived as a thousand dreams but she chose to hold me like the way Victoria holds the Nile,
To the version of me that carried darkness of a thousand nights, she filled my sky with a thousand moons, truth be told if I had nine lives like those of a cat, I would still all of them with her and if I had a thousand hearts they would still beat for her,
I will write so much of her because before I leave I want all the stars to know how beautiful she is,
Loving her isn't a battle too large to win, but it is a blessing too large to lose,
A love so loud it has silenced all my insecurities, a love stronger than the walls of Jerusalem, 
I bet if you dust my heart for fingerprints you'd only find hers,
I'm not saying she's perfect, but to me she's this beautiful irony, where perfection and flaws are the best of friends, 
She's this someone that reminds me of my favorite line, in my favorite poem the one I've always had to read twice, 
Through her, I've learnt that happiness multiplies when it is divided,
Such is the alcohol of her, intoxicated that when I mumble, they'll call me a poet.