the inevitability of wrinkled bedsheets

what if?

the starlight illuminates your face

and the moon cups your chin

i wonder, how i wonder,

what it would be like to let you in

and let you see my heart--

exposed and naked and raw--

because the way you illuminate my darkness

makes me think you wouldn't leave me at all.

there are galaxies tangled up in your hair,

and constellations painted onto your skin;

i might never reach heaven,

if loving you is a sin.

the sunlight will burn us both,

we'll shrivel to a crisp--

we'll return to dust,

become ashes--

but oh, how we'll sparkle

and glitter and gleam--

and perhaps the world is as beautiful

as it sometimes seems