There are things you think I want from you.
Like sipping a martini on our first date when playing with your feet under the table. The first time you kiss my ears. Or your nice suit and nice car. Like the time you look into my eyes and tell me you've never felt this way with anyone else before.
But these things don't make up the essence of you. What I want, is to know your insecurities when you're alone in your bedroom. I want to see the things that command all your attention. Your beauty and your ugliness. I want to know why darkness haunts you and how the rocks crumble beneath you.
Can I touch your soul?
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