Midnight

—

I don’t think you realize,
the way you cause earthquakes,
in everyone you touch.
I can still feel your aftershock
under my skin.

You tasted like strawberries and shards of glass,
but I devoured you anyways,
until my cheeks were filled with the sound of your name.
And when you told me how much you the despised the day

I thought that I might try to extinguish the sun with the pad of my thumb,
if I were not so fond
of the way you wear my fingerprints.

Because I just realized how infinitely
your face mirrors the night sky,
and got lost trying to connect your freckles
into constellations.
It was only when I first discovered the big dipper resting
on your right cheekbone did I remember,
I’m terrified of heights.