when i say i want you, i mean something like this

i want

a quaint life

with a complex girl.

i want riches

for security

not materials.

i want heartache

to end.

i want

you,

in your totality,

your every emotion,

your unapologetic tongue

on mine again.

i want

my presence

to nudge you

into being

completely yourself,

but also

the real you

to emerge from

from your own volition.

i want to watch

the splendor of

your evolution.

i want the jadedness

in my mind

to fuck off.

i want to minimize

profanity,

and by minimize

i mean eradicate

completely,

like doubt

from your mind.

i want your radiance,

your fury,

everything in between.

i don’t want control

to find its place

within us.

i want us to

choose each other

over and over

because we know

what’s out there

can’t compare

to what’s in here.

i want us

to love

without constraint,

to lust

without inhibition.

how do i say

i want your

spit in my mouth

with your

acceptance?

for your dress

to rest on the carpet

often?

would you get bored

if i kept asking

for your teeth

to sink into my shoulders?

your

nails to

embed themselves

in my back?

how do I ask

to taste your sweat

without your

contemplation?

how do i say

i want you

against a wall

without your

consternation?

i want

to lower

your cortisol

but spike

your oxytocin.

i want

to see

your pupils

give way

to surrender.

we are not

defined by the miles

or the time

between us.

i want

something

to be ours

that isn’t temporary,

like a home.

i want to love

in unremarkable places.

a kitchen

to slow dance in

that smells of gardenias.

a pot

on the stove,

my hands on

your waist

because you’re mine

to touch

and i don’t have to

hold back.

i want

your back against

my chest

while we wait

for the water to boil.

i want your natural reaction

to be leaning into me,

for our body language

to feel native.

i want your hands

to search for mine

when they hang idle

because you want it.

i want that

kind of ease

between us.

i don’t mean

to sound so

disillusioned

and i wish

i could stop

preparing myself

for you to pull away,

but i cannot help

but feel everything

precisely.

how it would feel

to have you there,

to wake up and not wonder,

to reach for you and actually find you.

i want your

freshly-painted toes

on the tile floor,

your shampoo to find its spot

on the mounted shower shelf.

i want to learn your rhythm,

how you stretch when you’re tired,

the affectionate name you’d yell

across the house to get my attention,

to watch you soften when you feel safe.

i want to love you

with the naivety of immortality,

but the urgency of our days

being finite.

i want to build something with you

that doesn’t leave.

this is my confession

that i don’t know how

to take back.