To Spend

I don't want someone to love me. I want someone to spend my love on. I want to learn how you take your coffee, not because I'll forget, but because I never want to ask twice. I want to brush your hair back when the wind gets there first. I want to read another chapter while your head rises and falls against my chest. I want to remember which side of the bed you always drift toward, which song you skip, which one you replay without noticing. I want to hear about your day, even the parts you think are too small to tell anyone. I want to love you in all the ways that never make it into movies. The second cup of coffee. The hand on your back as we cross the street. The blanket I pull over you after you've fallen asleep. I don't want someone to love me. I want someone to spend my love on. Because I think my heart was made for all the little things. And right now, it's full of them waiting for someone who has no idea they already exist.