I want to lay with our chests pressed together, nose on nose, eyes lost in eyes. I want to feel the heat rising out of you warming my cold pile of bones. I remember when I was little I would stay with my grandma and she would softly run the tips of her fingers over my back and I would giggle. I want to see if you get goose bumps the way I did. I want to run my fingers through your hair as you whisper honey and roses into my ear. I want to taste all the secrets on your skin and savor everything you’ve held captive behind your teeth. I want to make you breakfast in bed, but burn it like I always do, then watch you suffer through and please me as you do, and lie, and say it’s perfect.