I knew from the moment I met you that I needed to have you. What was it? Was it your accent or was it my naive charm. Did you like the fact that you could teach me a few things? You could teach me your language and I could teach you the constellations on my body. I'll listen to you read your foreign poems and I won't understand a word. You could tell me anything and I want to fall hopelessly in love with your words, your voice, your heavy eye lids, and your sweet smell.

I want to wake up tangled in your sweetness and cold sheets. I want to make the sheets warm with you by drinking tea in bed or cuddling instead. And for breakfast you make the finger food while I make the bed. The croissants are dripping with coffee and it looks like our bodies last night, dripping with sweat. You distract my thoughts by explaining what "cygnes" means and how I am one. I miss half of it but I smile anyway because you're touching my cheek and it feels so so soft.

Once we're living together I want run to the farmer's market and buy you your weekly produce. I'll be sure to save all the scribbles and riddles you write down and leave around. You can piece them together later with your big glasses on and your curls tickling your face. I want to cut your hair for you on our balcony and the wind will show your strands the whole town. The farmers wonder why their crop is suddenly blooming.