I Want To Sleep With You.

I want to sleep with you. 

I want to lie next to you and look at the stars.

In the back of a truck. On a building rooftop. On a patio. On the top of a car. In a bed.

And if we're in a bed, the stars that glow in the dark would suffice. 

I want you to look me straight in the eye and tell me how you named one of those stars after me. 

And I want you to laugh and sneak me a kiss on the forehead when I tell you I don't believe a word of your cliched attempt at flattery.

I want to sleep with you. Not your body.
   Your heart. 

Not an act of pleasure. 

   But an act of warmth. 

I want to tell you how much I've missed you. And now that I'm here, I'm never leaving again. 

I want to tell you my heart's deepest fears. 

I want to cry and tell you how terrified I am of losing you, even though you aren't mine to claim.

I want you to whisper silent desires that have kept your soul awake at night. 

I want you to tell me if you felt the same way too and that you missed me too, or if I was only mistaken. 

I want you to tell me how much you don't want me to leave. 

Never again.

I want us to joke and laugh like we've never been burned or bruised.  

I want us to goof around the way we did when 18 seemed like the world was ours. 

When we were, when I was falling hard.

I want us to talk about food and wine or whiskey and drunk confessions and conversations at 4 in the morning. 

I want you to tease me as if we were in kindergarten, so I can be dramatic and get mad at you as you try to tickle me to near death.

I want to sleep with you. 

My hand on your chest, my finger tips tracing the fabric of your shirt, I want to sleep with you. 

I want to feel your heart and the way it gets louder and faster with every inch that I move closer. 

I want you to play with my curls as I rest on your arm and we talk about the silliest and simplest of things, 

slowly succumbing to the sleep plaguing our eyes.

I want to sleep with you. 

We can just lay there.

Say nothing. 

Do nothing. 

Just lay there.

And let our hearts do the talking. 

Hoping in the comfortable familiar chaos of each other we'll find solace.

And we'll be whole again.