vi. I want to know everything about you. I want to study your freckles and name them like constellations. I want to learn about your cousins and about what makes you afraid to fall asleep at night. I want you to tell me about the first time you ever cried over someone and if you think I’ll ever be the reason you feel too much. I want you to tell me how you like your pancakes and if you’d rather go out for coffee or stay in. I want to explore your mind, give me a train ticket to the way you’ve been thinking, I’ll collect each stub, tape them to the walls so I’ll remember that you are an adventure. I want to map out the path of your spine and the gentle slope of your hips beneath my fingertips. I want to steal your breath and find what brings it back. I want you, entire.