On love

I want to love you. Simply and carelessly. Taking you for granted. So I can revel in the comforting notion of you being an eternal entity protected from the vagaries of time and circumstances. No matter how wrong I could be. I want you to be the hammock lying on which I can watch myriad  sunsets and moonrises, day breaks and day ends, time after time, day after day, each day, everyday. I want to sea dive into you, bereft of life support, discover your pearls, your monsters. I want to freefall into you without safety nets. I want to love you like how my niece loves an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon. With longing and satisfaction. Like a blanket on a misty morning. Under which I can curl further into my own dreamy slumber. I want you to be my never ending string. So that the kite that is me can roam unrestrained and yet always find my way back to you. I want to love you like a bird loves its wings. Like a nation celebrating its freedom. I want you to explode in me like fireworks and see the light explode on you when the skies are starless. I want to love you like a secret whispered tenderly. Softly and so close that every spoken word of it reaches  your soul before it leaves my lips. I want to love you like a philosopher and a lunatic. Without the baggage of yesterdays or the tickets to tomorrow. Without conditionalities. With knowledge and acceptance. With so much anger that makes me want to pull out every strand of my hair. With so much sorrow that I cant see through my own despondency. I want  a love that can annihilate me. Agonise me. Drive me insane with happiness. Kill me with its singular intensity. So I know every inch of my unknowable being. A love in every shade of red. In everyway. Everyday. Such is the love I want from you. Chaotic. Anarchic. Imperfect. Immane.