What I Want Most

What I want most, is to know what you hear in the silence between us. No. What I want most is 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 and coffee and wine with you. I want to listen to music with you. I want to feel your body against mine as we dance and sway gently to our favourite song. I want to talk about everything in the world. I want to discuss with you, to be stubborn and quick-witted with you. I want to kiss you, but only in the most connotative way possible, so that no dictionary definition would stand a chance to describe how your lungs could be filled with the sweetest air possible, and yet you would still be so breathless. I want to have differences between us. I want your flaws. All of them. I want to go into the deepest corners of your mind and never get bored of you. I want to be surprised by the new all the time. I want to look at you like a movie, a living piece of art, always trying to chase what you crave...and capture you. In all the chaos of the stars, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I want to find you and I want to choose you...only you.