For a while now I've wanted

For a writer to fall in love with me

For I've always thought of myself as the perfect subject for poetry,

so that I could search for my fingerprints

In the words that he writes.

I've also wanted since a while

For a painter to see the beauty in me

I know I don’t have the perfect body

But I've wished to see a lover put down on a canvas

How love makes his lover look like the most beautiful person in the world.

I've wanted a singer to sing for me

All the songs that melt my heart;

But all I have is you

You, the person who repeats the same things in his letters again and again

You, even the hearts you make look disfigured

You, you know no words to the songs, let alone the tunes

But on days when I feel uprooted, lost, and alone

You, all you do is make me feel like home.