I want you. I want your flaws. All of them.

I want you. I want your sleepy confused look when you wake up. I want to be the warmth that fills the space in your bed. I want to be the sheets your fingers crave at night; the blanket that wraps around you all night. I want to drink tea with you, share some records we find. I want to talk about everything in the world newspapers. I want to discuss with you, to be stubborn and quick-witted