I want a room with you.
I want a house with a garden and paintings on eggshell walls
and to silence ourselves with birds on the lawn and a washing machine carrying its tempo
All I want is wildflowers in terracotta and linen all for us
sun drifting over carpets in the late afternoon and heavy cream curtains
I want your freshly washed hair and the pile of books you haven't read yet
cold drinks and heartbeats, trees that whisper in the wind and a peach mattress for the stars to watch us.