I want someone to share these cold mornings with and to warm my toes when the air refuses to stop biting. I want someone who won’t mind my incessant need to trace the curves of their ribs or to learn how their body feels when my fingers grace their calves. I want someone who doesn’t need me to be whole all the time because I’m cracked at the edges and remember there is that one big split right down the middle that is pretty difficult to mend back together. I want someone who doesn’t think I’m pretentious because I write poetry at 11 am on a Saturday. I want someone who cries when they laugh so I can see the real depths of their emotional psyche. I want someone who will appreciate me for the ****** up mess I turn myself into but also for the beauty that I’ve been told I contain. I want someone to be the person to me that I could be to them.