And I.

Alexandra is Constant Comment tea. She is clothes right out of the dryer. Alexandra is slow shutter speed. The balance on a slackline. Macro. Alexandra is wind on hot days. A piece of paper on a wall. She is memories, stored neatly. She is squinting eyes in the sun. Alexandra is mechanical pencils, never wood. Mediterranean pasta. Creature of habit. Alexandra is your favorite sweatshirt you just can't get rid of. The sore fingers from playing too much guitar. Alexandra is the smoke that fills your lungs with nostalgia. She is the memory of falling and scratching your knee. She is big tears. Alexandra is words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time. She is the long walk in Autumn. She is number 4, number 8. Passion. Warm flannel sheets. Alexandra is the pretty shoes you put on, and the sore feet afterwards. She is the things that make you smile. The question mark at the end of a sentence. Alexandra is the comfort you come home to at the end of the day.