Pieces of Me

For instance, I want nothing more than a million little things with you in this very moment. I want to cry on your lap. I want to hear you sing. I want to throw popcorn in your face. I want my hair stroked by your hands. I want to slowly undress you. I want to swirl the hair on your forearms. I want to run really fast through Washington Square Park in a race. I want to take you to my favorite lil romantic wine bar. I want sleep for 12 and 1/2 hours waking up periodically to your elbow in my chin. I want you to complain about my hogging the covers. I want to push you to be more; to be better. I want you to challenge my intellect and my vocabulary. I want to know what Florida looks like with you. I want you to see beauty in the ugly of Iowa. I want to go shopping for you, with you, because of you. I want to fight at the jukebox. I want to hate Bjork...but I don't. You want to hate Kelly...but you won't. I want to gossip with you and judge all the boys that pass us by. I want your hand to fall effortlessly onto my thigh. I want my body to quiver when it does. I want to laugh, I want to kiss, I want to cry, I want to hold...even just your hand.

I will not be here waiting.
I will just be here.

I will not take these things for granted. I will only cherish and learn from all this that is bad and that is good.

Someday maybe...Someday maybe not.

Either way, in time it will bloom and grow and close up and start over again.
I will be here...if you will be. I will be here....Please be careful with me.