I don’t want you for anything.
Not what you can give or take away.
I want you for the wrong reasons but they are thick good meaty reasons, I don’t want anything from you
except, of course, a new life your hands on my hips a lot of things I never could have from the start.
I want another city, to walk beside you, to feel and taste your breath.
But I don’t want your money or even too much of your time or your high or your age before it’s too late.
We could wait ten years and run our courses and come back to right here and I would still want this, like last time, we could do it again but maybe make something.
Who can say.
I know she’s got you convinced we are all only what we have to give not counting hearts but that is what I want.
Maybe you weren’t asking, maybe
It’s easier not to know.