I'm Jealous of the moon,

 because she knows all your 5am secrets.
And your sheets who get to touch every part of you as you sleep
while I keep a close eye on this empty pillow,
waiting for your weight to keep it warm.
But the Sun.
He is luckiest of all.
When you are half asleep, groggy, and painfully unaware of how beautiful you look.
He kisses your lips with light.

Unknown