selfishly, i want this life. selfishly, i want it with you. i want late sunday mornings in bed, and i want them in your bed, and i want you in my bed, blanketed by the soft light that shines in, by the gentle songs of birds, by an open window, that lets in a sweet smelling breeze that tells us that spring is almost here. i want another spring with you, i want another year with you. i want everything this life will offer me, i want to see what it will offer you. i want what takes shape in its molding, what each of us becomes in its unfolding. i want the cracks that will emerge, i want every hardened, and broken, and ugly piece that we hide away from the world. i want to laugh and cry again with you, i want to do it all over again with you. i open my hands to the earth. i hope for the weight of your hands in mine. selfishly, i want to be alive. selfishly, i want it to be you.