Would I be?

Would I be your favorite tea you sip in the rain,
that patters on your window pane as we lay,
head on the scar 'neath your heart.

Would I be your favorite beat of the song,
we danced on under the bridge as we longed
for one to confess to the other.

Would I be your favorite mistake,
of the season you make to seem like one wake
of a starry night while we pretend to sleep.

Would I be your smile when I catch
you match my breath until we detach
like the smoke we don't exhale.

Would I be the favorite story you tell
when you dwell on a life of seventy spent well
or would I just be a reminding silence?