sunscreen

his face loses

all its bone structure

as soon as the sunlight hits his skin.

he turns bright red.

“wear sunscreen,” I remind him.

“even when it’s cloudy.”

he hates it

when there are crumbs in the bed sheets

and he’ll spend a solid few minutes brushing them off rigorously

even when he’s sure they’re all gone.

“new sheets,” I’ll say before bed

when I’ve washed them.

when we met

he told me he never liked it when

people assume his coffee order, because it might change.

he always gets a medium Americano with half and half, no sugar.

“I’m running to the cafe,” I tell him.

“what would you like?”

we’re walking out of a movie theater

on a Thursday night

when he stops in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I love you. I just want you to know that.”

he pauses.

“and I’d like to know how you feel, however you feel.”

I smile. “you know.”

“I think… I’d like to hear you say it.”

“I have.”

I smile and he smiles back.

we don’t talk much-

perhaps because I’ve never felt the need to-

but when we do, we understand.

there was a time when I wasn’t sure

if I was doing it right

if we were doing it right.

he’s so tall that we can never take a good photo-

one in which both of our torsos are in the frame-

and I thought

good pictures on social media

meant a good relationship.

the only picture I have of him online

is one in which he and his dog are asleep

and drooling a puddle on the couch.

I’ve grown fond of it

I’ve grown fond of him.

there was a time when I thought

falling in love meant

another round of self-torture

being in love meant

finding someone I could break in front of

without feeling uncomfortable

but

oddly

I can’t tell you

how or when or where or why

I fell in love

because it feels like nothing has changed

and I almost never cry in front of him

because it’s hard to feel like that

when I’m around him.

he hooks my arm in his

as we walk. I don’t even have to ask

to take the long path home

because he knows that this is my favorite time-

when the sunset lights the entire sky on fire.

he knows I like how the pond looks

when the ripples are scarlet and sienna.

he knows my favorite bench in the park

that overlooks the whole flickering city.

he knows I like to cross my legs

when I sit

just as I know he always forgets

to wear sunscreen.