He has searched constellations
and found nothing quite as profound
as you

scribbling furiously all over his notepad
making a list of
the things that you do
the things that he would someday like to ask you

he removes you from an invisible box in his mind
and begins to break you down
bit by bit into simple geometry
calculating the angles at which you tilt your head
and he muses

maybe there is a formula
that will tell him what to say
by the sadness of your sigh
but he will leave that for later

sketches of you
scratched out with a hint of frustration
he cannot get that same look in your eyes

Then he glances up as you walk by.

how mesmerizing,
from the flush of your cheeks
to the way your hips sway ever so slightly

He breathes you in and
all complicated workings are instantly forgotten.