i can't say this
when i'm sober
and power snuggling
under a false
night sky
of glow-in-the dark
stars

and apparently

i can't say this to you
when i'm laying
at yr bedside
drunk on a heavy
heart, floating on
the puget sound

either.

you asked me
for a compliment
and i could've said:
you have this way,
this cadence, in
yr speech
that makes my
insides tingle
like a cake
in the oven.

you are
an inspiration,
a glimmer of
truth and optimism
of good faith
and of hope
for love and for life
and for the belief
in durable,
human
relationships.

(you asked me
who i had a crush on
and the only person
who came to
mind
was you)

both times
i wanted to
be respectful
and ask you for a kiss.

tonight, i recalled
our bodies pressed
against one another
and you admitting
admiration
for lip freckles
that i am
often
embarrassed by.

maybe
tonight
you read
it in my palm

there's a groove
there
no wikihow
or google image
has an explanation for

and next time
we part lips
simultaneously
i'll make the
momentous decision
to kiss you open mouthed
and we'll both

smile.