I want.....

I want to be a book that sleeps beside your bed, the one you reach for when you cannot find the backs of your eyes and paint with your own ink to highlight the sentences that highlighted something inside you. The bent pages and water damaged spine and the ring of brown where your coffee mug couldn’t help but sit when the skin on your fingers couldn’t handle the heat any longer. Let me be the tanlines you don’t know you have, from where the sun reached in for a kiss but found fabric or metal or shade instead. The halo of lighter skin that lives under your ring or the lines below your toes that trace the days you wore flip-flops instead. Would you love me more if I was your favorite dress? The one that came out on special occacions and made your lips do that little pursed smirk during your last glance for the last time in your last mirror on your way out the door. The silent nod of approval that all things are in the right place and tonight, yes tonight, you feel beautiful. The one that drops jaws and raises eyebrows and forces hearts to speed up when slowing down for the night was all they had on their agenda. I had a dress I was rainfall, but the kind that followed you around and only feel in your hair. The little cloud that carried me was a magnet to the metal in your blood and sticks to you through the comic strip course of your afternoon. The kind that rains from under your umbrella as if your umbrella alone created it; Let me be that rain as you gorgeous realization that wet socks should drive you crazy but just cannot today, just will not if it’s me that’s the water and your socks are drinking me like they are dying of thirst.

I want to be conversation that’s hold entirely without words but instead with the ballet of your lips on my lips. The slight pauses and the long drawn out sighs. The world that translate themselves as we pull our mouths apart for moment just the memorize the exact smell and taste and tactile imprints that we were left with. The arguments that takes place under sheets instead of a cross tables, the peaceful resolution that come as I wash your hair in the shower and see the letters of our disagreement whirlpool themselves around the drain before vanishing forever. The soup bubbles that pop all around us and each carry the same sounds if only we were small enough to hear, do they all say how silly we have been? How small the furniture in the household of that fight? How croocked the paintings and how sloped the walls of that fighting fit of an argument? I wonder what it would feel like to be anger or sadness or even regret inside you? I would love to be any emotion that you, whitout knowing why you do or even be able to help the fact that it’s habit now, keep bottled up deep inside you. I want to know what it feels like to shake you from your skeleton and rattle those bones and make every freckle dance with how hard your skin shakes. Then I want to be the calm that washes over you and the realization that you are exactly where you are supposed to be and that no one, not any one , can ever take that way as long as you believe in it.

I want to be the smell of your childhood home and the reaction your body has when something smell exactly like it. That instant transportation to somewhere simpler. I want to be 5:00am on Christmas morning and the way that every other person in the family yells at you to make it at least 7, come on, this year, at least 7. Maybe I could be a dog that followed you home one day or looked at you with just the right combination of love and need that stopped your feet for shuffling out the shelter door and turn on the spot you stood to rescue me. Maybe if I was a dog, on the day I died all you would ever possibly remember were the good moments and good things I did and never the mistakes or the times I broke things that shouldn’t be broken or acted just a little too defensive and willing to show everyone everywhere that you belonged to me, and I belonged to you.

Tulisan ini saya ketik ulang dari kutipan milik Tyler Knott.