Unknown desire.

I want a man who feels pure magic when he lays a hand on my shoulder. I don’t want comfort. I don’t desire comfort. I see no comfort in comfort. I want an edgy, but desirable smile. I want a smile that speaks on its own. I want a flawed and challenging man who leaves me no room to figure him out. And goddamn, I don’t want butterflies. I want firecrackers. I want sparks to fly when we exchange glances. I’m so sick of this simplicity.

I want him to talk, and I want to listen. I want to keep to myself, but be with him all at once. I want us to lay on a pink flowered mattress on a brown, whiskey stained floor with blue sheets, and cream pillowcases. I want us to adore each others skin, and figure out every flaw and fall in love with it. But I want silence all the same. I want you to trace my bones. I want you to show me everything.

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