It's the feel of his warm calloused fingertips on the smooth skin of your hips. It's the color of the butterfly's wings that come alive in your stomach when he smiles at you. It's the sound of the glass wind chimes on the cool September day sitting on the front porch.  It's the look of pure adoration in his soothing eyes when you smile trying to make him fall in love. It's the sound of his laughter in the most serious of times. It's the feeling of loyalty going through your hardest days only to find him safely standing behind you. It's the color of the balloons you released in April only to find them in May. It's the sound your name makes as it rolls of his hot Spanish tongue meant for only your ears.  It's the taste of your lips bitten between his unforgiving teeth; warm in the breath. It's the shimmer of iridescence; the breeze of the hurricane; the question without hesitation in the answer.  It's the color I found in his teasing blue eyes. It's the sympathy I found in his heart that lacked pity. And it's the one thing I left behind all those years ago in white letters.