You asked what I wanted for my birthday
And though I loved the sweater, I really just wanted some time with you  
Don’t drag me to dinner, but please schedule an apocalypse so that we can be alone at last
Where phones don’t have service and duty doesn’t call until tomorrow
I want us to share the contents of our minds, not crumpled bed sheets
All I ask is for you to pluck out the numbers on your clocks and place them in my hands
With a kiss on the forehead and maybe some tea