I want you because there aren’t any good words for who you are. The only ones that come to mind are earnest, sad clichés like ‘amazing’ and ‘magnetic’ and ‘fascinating’ and I don’t want to use them, but on the other hand they are the only words, and cliché or not they are honest words and I’m not sure consulting a thesaurus at this point would be genuine. And it’s not that I want you officially, like I want your last name or your Sunday mornings or your hard shiny promise, I just want to absorb you. I want to know what you know, want to hear your stories, want to filter through them gently and get lost in them, them and the soft hypnosis of your hands in my hair.