Conversations with Nobody: Stay

I want you to show up at my front door soaking wet.

I want you to lose your breath, your voice, your ability to do anything but stand, looking at me, looking at you.

I want to run you a hot shower, dress you in warm pajamas, fill you with hot cocoa and my presence.

I want you to lie on my couch with head back looking at my artwork and memories, while tucked pleasantly into a blanket that smells like home.

With every thought I wish for you this way.