I wanted love like Sunday morning.
Coffee filling the house, the smell of bacon cooking, and a breeze through the windows.

I wanted love like Sunday afternoon.
Jazz playing on the record player, white sheets crumpled under our bodies, and the waves outside our perfect home.

I wanted love like Sunday night.
Wine glasses clinking together, fingers laced together, and crickets chirping in the meadow.

I wanted love like a Sunday morning...