The speaker is trying to convince himself, and perhaps his partner, that sex is only part of what love means. The opening line, "I want to believe," sounds hopeful but a little uncertain, as if this is an idea he is still settling into. From there, the poem becomes a list of wishes: to slow down, to discover, to appreciate, to love. Each one pushes away from rushed, "frantic, mindless desire" and toward patience and attention.
The most tender moment is the touch of hands on skin, which he says gives him more pleasure than sex itself. That detail makes the poem feel personal rather than abstract. He wants to learn everything about this person and to love each part of them "for you," not for what they give him. The mood is quiet, earnest and sincere. The plain, repetitive phrasing, with its short lines and "I want" openings, reads like someone speaking carefully and honestly. The final line returns to the title and settles the idea: there is more to sex.