F*ck it. Let’s get brutally honest.
Let me tell you what I want. Period.
I want a man who looks at me like he could burn a hole right through my heart with his desire for me.
I want chemistry that is palpable not just to each other, not just to the room, but that could register on the Richter Scale.
I want someone whose night is not complete, who’s eyes refuse to close, without telling me goodnight and that they love me.
I want to be sought after even though I can be found easily by your side.
I want to be fought for even when I have no intention of going anywhere.
I want you to think that I am the reason you were put here and that the very ease of your breath comes when I am near.
I want to silence all the doubts in your mind.
I want you to look at me like I am the only woman in a room full of supermodels.
I want you to crave my fingertips on your skin.
I want you to get lost in my words and unlock my mind.
I want to be Shakespeare’s next story.
I want to be Van Gogh’s next painting.
I want to be the lyrics of your song.
I am the stuff of stars and you are the stuff of stars and together we are the next great constellation.
I do not want a mediocre love.
I want it all….the butterflies, the chemistry…
I want to drown in love.
Speaking of poetic love:
Author: Christie Page
Editor: Renee Jahnke
Image: Loke Inkid-Pixoto