poem: the stars turned off, for dramatic romantic effect

I imagine he needs me
as much as I need him: I am not idealizing
a personality, I am just making a desperate boy
who lays awake
and would rather have me
curled into his side than to have another night
spent alone, crying when
the color drips,
crying when he steps inside
his mind and comes back
alive.

I know your face, darling, because I
see it in the mirror
all the time.