You wouldn’t accept a compliment from me,

no, not one,

not the way I liked the way your skin looked
under the streetlamp,

the eyes that you hated
and I loved,

your small, kissable mouth
and lips,

all the red flags
I was kind enough to overlook,

your height, perfect for nestling
on my chest and beneath my chin,
tall for you, but short for me,

your body, the perfect size to glomp
my arms around, to lean against me
in the back seat of the Mazda,

while those streetlamps shined
upon your face, me lucky enough
to get a close-up

for a little while