This Night Becomes You

You were this night.
It becomes you, in both senses
of the word. You’ve both
got that same dark quality
in your eyes, dotted with sparks
of stars, placed so randomly
it could only be fate. I laid out
maps of stars and could not find
anything more spectacular
than those stars in your eyes.

Your fingers shared the same
stillness of the trees this night,
quiet and unshaking.

I found your lips were moist,
like the dewed grass of my front
lawn, evenly dispersed and cool.

I felt your breath on my skin,
and it was warm, like the breeze
which the night inherited, subtle
and did not disturb except
in pleasant ways.

Yes, dear, this night becomes you.