she tugs off her headphones and her ears are so tender that she’d hear anything i’d say / happiness is a pocket that she tucks a polaroid or memory into / happiness is a moment honeycombed like this one that i wish i could eternalize / happiness is the weight of her head on my leg, the weight of her hand in mine, the weight of something brimming in my throat / happiness is when she steps out and shows me all her freckles and fault-lines pointing to them in the mirror like constellations