You make it hard to sleep.
I'm tucked under comforters at 3 am
with the image of your face in the absence of moonlight stuck in my head and I have never been more comfortable than I am
when you hold me up in the air as if
you're trying to show the
whole world my apparent beauty.
And then, you kiss me.
And smiling mouths kiss better
than ones that frown so I pray
that I can keep that grin plastered
on your face just long enough
to connect lips like constellations
yet again.
God I am a mess but I wouldn't have it any other way because
you are comparable to the
shining light that leads me
out of the gallows,
and brightens all the corridors
in my gloom filled head.
I wish I could whisper all of this
into the curve of your neck while you hold me but I can never find words
and form them into correct sentences,
rather than incoherent gibberish
while under the trance that is
the feel of your fingertips
I'm tucked under comforters at
3 am thinking about how lucky I am
and that's why I was late for school this morning.
I overslept dreaming of all we could become.