I don't, But I

I don't care about your shoe size
But I crave the sound of your steps coming into the room
I don't care about the way you wear your hair
But I long to run my hand from the creases in your forehead back and down to the nape of your neck
I don't care about the color of your eyes
But I need them looking at me
I don't care about the strength of your hands
But I want them to lead the small of my back
I don't care about the fit of your jeans
But I am enticed by the the idea of them laying on my floor
I don't care about your beard or if you shave
But I don't mind the small scratches on my inner thighs that they make
I don't care about your friends and the way they look at the idea of us
But I don't like the women on their arms
I don't care about the amount of time you devote
But I would like it to be on my calendar each day
I don't care about your demons
But I pray you don't see all of mine