I want biting wit. The sharp kind. Not like the one they’d sell at an IKEA for $10 and under $5 in a sale. More like the kind that you’d find being auctioned in a Sotheby’s (or Christie’s, they both price fix equally well), filled with mysterious, unknown, mostly overseas buyers.
I want fleeting time. Not the kind that is the Roadrunner cartoon, which is always tearing across. More like Sonic the Hedgehog, walking, enjoying one moment and then zipping by another, all at the press of a button (or for the need of a better time).
I want dreams. Not the sit at home kinds. But the ones with balls, big enough, to cross the border and become plans.
I want love. Not of the Romeo and Juliet variety, oh so fickle, so sudden, naive and so short.