i want to remember what it is to be young again.
i want to strain my eyes reading under the covers after mom as tucked me in.
i want to remember what it was like dance before it became a symbol of sexuality, bound by rules of cultural conduct; unashamed and freeing.
i want to daydream about finding love, instead of brooding about it.
i want to cry; great heaving, gasping-for-breath sobs till i cant cry any longer, to cry without worrying about what my mascara looks like.
i want to forget my first kiss.
i want to laugh loud and childishly. i want to giggle outrageously without worrying who can hear me and thinks i’m crazy.
i want to remember, only once, only for a moment, what the world looked like – i mean really looked like – before wisdom and grown-up aspirations began to color my vision.
i want you to take me there.
(April 18, 2006)