I want to lie in bed all day, reading to you my favourite prose. Listen to your poetry and have your soul disguised as words laid out beautiful on a patch on mine. Laugh at that story about the soul patch you once had at the cusp of youth. Wear my favourite long white shirt with secret black venice lace flower vines underneath...make random clicks and see the uneven bronze of my skin and the rose-streaked contours of yours even out into tones on a black and white film. We shall let the memories be the colour in them whenever and wherever the album is flicked open. I want to cook by the window, while sipping wine from a glass that desires to spill over on the length of the white shirt. I want you to set me right when I read life through the lenses of theories. Or when I become mundanely predictable. Set me right like you do...with a firm hand and a gentle tone...and a joke thrown in. I have known a certain mood of self-destruction to strike once in a cluster of months...one that I climb out of the next day, but not before my words slash my loves like a knife slices through a loaf. I have heard that a certain kind of divinity heals those patches on your soul. A divinity that sits, listens, scolds and above all...feels you in all your pain and all your pleasure. A divinity that makes you not cringe with guilt or turn away from the demons that make you. But one that makes you mindfully aware of those demons and their doing...and makes you, for once, want to kiss them goodbye. Because the sunshine reaches out so selflessly, you have no reason to hold on to the blanket of darkness. A divinity that walks on nails with a bucket of that which you have craved an entire lifetime...acceptance. A divinity that is so embracing, it weathers a storm of bricks falling out of the wall of your defence mechanism...and helps you tear it down. A divinity that emotionally blackmails you if all else fails and the night gets dangerously dark, only to emboss on your skin a mark of morning-after inspiration to turn the leaf over. That divinity...is you. I want to let my fingers linger through your hair and do what words cannot. I want to do everything with you. In some life :)