The way my hair curls and frizzes and becomes a tangled nest by morning's arrival?
How I lay in bed each morning, stretching like a cat in the sun, until I'm awake enough to get up for coffee?
The scars and tattoos, cutting in and out of my body, describing my life?
How about when I'm book hungover?
Or when the urge to discuss a medical journal is bursting out of me? (Would you fall in love with way my eyes light up and I talk too fast while I'm desperately trying to learn and explain it all?)
Would you think of me as a flame or a hurricane?
Would you love how my house stays cold so we can cuddle under the myriads of blankets?
If I asked you to build a doll house with me, would you be thrilled or annoyed? Would you love that time we spent together, or would it be a placation?
Would my love of hiking, pink, nature, sweet tea, writing, learning, animals, cleaning, singing, flowers, and making love, be too much of a contradiction for you to want to stay?
Or would these little silly things be what makes me matter?
I'm just a silly little bit of whimsy. Looking for a safe harbour.