They told me

They told me
that I could be anything,
so forgive me
for desiring to be
an ethereal body,
composed of stellar dust
enclosed to combust
within the nebulous clouds
of your eyes.
I admit,
I’ve been envious
of the way they scintillate 
when the sun
infects you with its charisma,
while I’m imploding
in the shade
to be the why to your smile,
your laughter.

When they told me
that I could be anything,
you were already taken
and I,
a lifetime too late to be yours.
I implore you
to understand,
if I come off as
hyperbolic,
just know that it’s hard to
find forms of frolic
without you.

I’ve dreamt volumes
of every known occupation
to man just to serve you better
than the runner ups to your love.
I was built,
created,
fashioned,
manufactured
and
generated to catalyze
every love story between us
in this life,
thereafter
and every intermediary form in between.

So when they told me,
I could be anything:
I vowed
before the heavens,
the earth
and every season
that seasons this life with color,
to be faithfully yours
and no other.