Astronomy

there are stars in your teeth and in your eyebrows
underneath your nails and in the beads
of sweat that rolled across our hands
and I found them, and no one
else knew they were there
but me

we made a constellation --
a galaxy of hot breath and
peach fuzz, and I have never been
so committed to astronomy

and in your natural state, you are
a purplish plume of cosmic dust
and all the loveliest things
are made of you:
auroras,
the spaces between words,
shadows,
and lamp light

now bring me my telescope
so that I may get a better look at
the ridges of your shoulder-
blades, and the place under
your tongue

for you are the chemical reaction
between bits of stardust
colliding to create
life