I know precisely what I want.
Although it is almost impossible to form those wants into words.
Especially when those words can easily reduce eyes to rolling.
But here I go.
I want single-minded devotion.
Tristan for Isolde devotion.
Across the seven seas.
And toppled empires devotion.
Metaphorically, of course.
But still, a grand love affair, nonetheless.
Encompassing the same emotion.
No waves or fires.
Set in the backdrop of a little home.
Over the breakfast table.
Along with mugs of coffee and buttered toast.
Expressed in long stares, simple smiles and a rub of our wool-socked feet.
Yes, that same emotion.
As if I was the only thing that mattered.