You are poetry and I am reading it.
The chiasmus of your palms.
The understatement of your magnificence.
The personification of your warmth.
The onomatopoeia of your laugh.
The hyperbole of your absence.
The apostrophe of your existence.
The alliteration of your eyes twinkling, tearing through my threads of darkness.
But the most important one is,
The metaphor of us.