i want to write essays about your body
to preach you to ears who
have never heard
your laugh.
i want to create
constellations in your skin
and give each one a history
that i will read to myself
when it is the middle of the night
and you have turned away in your sleep.
because we don't need a background
in physics to know
that i will never
truly, fully, wholly,
understand you—
but you will always be here
covered in that cloud, oh
that cloud of unknowing.
sappy lately, maybe happy lately.