She must steal sips of starlight;
have kissed the moon's pale cheek,
been blessed as one of her constellations,
because, she thinks,
not even Icarus must have been this enraptured by the sun,
or Orion the moon;
and if it meant burning,
she would throw everything into the feeling of fire in her chest,
flowers blooming in her lungs
all from just looking at her beloved.