Hey, you
It must be the most personal phrase of endearment
So simple and unimaginative
No nickname, no play on words
Yet it carries a mountain of affection
Buried so deep in subtext; geologists are at a loss
Only one person in the world gets to call you that
In tender moments of intimacy
Tucked timidly together under bed sheets
Or the first message you receive when you're halfway round the world
It can hit you like the prick of a needle; delicate
Or thump you straight in the chest from its runaway momentum
Hey, you
Special, unique, confident, unwavering solidarity
Said in a way that only you would appreciate
The impact feels staggering
The subsequent words trail behind, pitiful in comparison
Admittedly, I didn't think much beyond the opener.
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