How to love me

Hot cup of tea, in tiny pale hands, illuminated by the dying fire casting shadows across the blankets strewn on the floor. Cold wind howling, drops of heavy rain against an aging tin roof, your hot skin pressed to mine, holding me as we marvel at the raw power of the universe.

That is how I want to be loved.

How I deserve to be loved.

Unconditionally.

Freely.

And without hesitation.

Yet I continue to look in all the wrong places.

Whoever you are.

Wherever you are.

When you find me,

Take me here,

And I will be yours.