U and Me.

We just can't say it. I'd say that there's a wall between us, but that's not quite it-- its more like an electrified fence, an easy climb, though even the slightest sense of reason or self-preservation would steer you to avoid it. Instead, we lay in the dark and say we love Uganda, and universal healthcare, and ukeleles. I don't say unicorns, because that's a given, and the only things I have left to tell you now are secrets. So I say, I love ubiquity.
Euphoniums.
Yugoslavia. Ukraine. Yucatan Peninsula.
Unicycles.
Unitarians.
Uranium.
Pretty soon, you're cheating. You say you love U locks on bicycles and YouTube and pretty soon, just words that start with U but don't even count (Youuueurope). I have more--I speak four languages, and can love you in just as many--but as soon as I whisper it in the dark, I love unanimous victory, I know that you have conceded. I say Roll over, stop touching you. I am barely lying when I whisper I love euthanasia, ask you to let me sleep.