Analysis of Untitled (the poet in her)

The trouble with leaving is I never want to go.
And by that I mean, if I could
I’d sew my skin into cotton sheets
Set my bones into bed frame
If it meant always being the soft place she rests
I think I was born from the clouds in that way
Meaning when god decided to send me down
It was for a two month head start
On making the world more beautiful for her
I’m not sure I can take credit for all of her lifetime of beautiful memories.
I just hope to be there for the future of them.
And by that I mean
I don’t think it’s coincidence that when I check my phone to see if she’s awake yet, it shows she read my message a minute ago.
By that I mean,
I don’t think it’s coincidence that every time she moves I shift too.
Parallel, but in tune.
The way the moon rises as the sun sets
Her spine is the center of my orbit
I am so small.
I lost all of my gravity in her blood stream
All of my chaos in her teeth
I never did feel comfortable tearing up permission slips
Until it came down to my bite against her holy lips
Her strong grip on my hip
Like she’s trying to fly a kite straight up to the sky
A parallel universe
Where gaps don’t exist and you know who you’re fated to
Love isn’t on a learning curve
She calls her fear of losing me the poet in her
And by that I mean
I bought a typewriter
So I couldn’t backspace anymore