I Need You

I need you.

I need to run my hands through your hair.

I need to kiss your lips and your neck and your chest and your skin.

I need to draw shapes on your body with my fingertips.

I need to hold your heart with my words and your body with my arms.

I need to wake up next to you, if only to admire your wild hair and your crystal eyes.

I need to style your hair with irons and shampoo.

I need to give you makeovers to help you decide which color eyeshadow you want to flash for the day.

I need to hold your hand while you sit next to me in a car’s leather seat.

I need to admire your astonishing figure and your alluring smile.

I need to watch the sun’s rays bounce off your skin.

I need to delight in the brightness of your eyes whenever you see an animal.

I need to mark your neck with necklaces of rose gold jewelry.

I need to kiss you in the morning, not noticing any temporary variety in your taste.

I need to pluck the stars from the sky and set them at your feet.

I need to offer a diamond ring for your left hand to show off.