Him

I never thought that I would admit
such a ridiculous predicament,
but I can’t seem to shake it from my bones.
For every time that I see him

(in my dreams)

everything else becomes blurry
around the fading edges...
and color melts.
every time that he smiles,

(though it may be just in my mind)

the air in my chest feels heavier
yet less important.
So I can’t seem to shake it from my bones
that I love him.
I love him.
I am in love with him.
I am in love with my dream
that sneaks up on me
and steals away every part of me
that I thought I knew.
Everything that he is
has become an instruction manual
on the ways of being happy.
And when I don’t read enough of it
my joy dwindles.
I love everything he is

and everything that he isn't.

Like the way he speaks with lively inflection,
the way he thinks with hopeful admiration.
and the way he moves.
Sometimes I wake into my dream
and he is asleep next to me.
I watch as he breathes,
as his blanketed chest rises and falls
almost rhythmically.
His skin is like golden honey
and tanned olive tones.
His deep brown hair,
almost black as the night,
is always swept up a bit in the front.
His smile...
it is so slight
and so real,
unfading in its security.
He is strong and solid.
Nothing he does is out of place
or unintentional.
Like the time
we laughed so hard that
he fell out of his chair.
But the thing about him,
this man that I love,
it’s his eyes.
They are gray,
a deep, smooth gray.
Like God melted a crayon
and mixed it with silver moonlight.
But they catch the light around the edges
and simmer a reflection of soft jade
and flecks of gold flakes.
He is
courage
but sensitivity
and clever wit
yet intensity.
He is
strong
but still weak.
and smart
but not smug.
He is
bright
and when he kisses me
every piece of my body,
behind my knees,
between my fingers,
in my ears,
and my mind
and even my soul
fill with light,
light that I crave when I wake.
And my stomach
grows dense with tiny butterflies
that explode with bursts
of serenity.
So I can’t shake it from my bones.
For when my whole world
can fit inside of my arms,
I know nothing
about everything
except
him
and everything

that he isn't.