This Is What I Want

I want to wake up in your bed
with your plaid shirt buttoned over
my naked body,
and my hair rustled from the pillows
cushioning my mind
and my head resting on your warm bare chest
and my fingers entwined with yours.
I want your lips pressed
against my forehead
and your body hovering close to mine
so that our breaths mingle
and we are
I want you on a Sunday morning
when the sun is just peeking through
the dark window
and the coffee is bubbling
wildly upstairs.
I want sunny side up eggs
and toast stained with burns and
doused with butter.
I want your hand on the small of my back
peering over a pan
of sizzling salty bacon.
I want to grow wrinkly and gray
with you in that moment

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