How in love and terrified am I.

He was exquisite
in every taste.
From the way he moved against me
while he slept
to how he caught his breath
when he laughed.

And I was ideally in love
with his character.
the way he told me
he loved me,
and every little flaw
that consisted in making
him.

Because some nights he keeps
me awake
by kissing my imperfections
and turning them into
flowers.
Just so he can say he’s in love
with how I make the sun rise
even though his words
fall upon somnolent ears.

and I can’t help but wonder how
he makes the sky so blue
or how he nestled into the space
under my collarbone
and between my heart

or how I fell in love with him
over a simple phrase
that wasn't even directed at someone
in the same astrological plane
as I.