i want; a poem

I want to skinny dip at sunset and dance in lilac storms,

To breathe in the scent of rainy lemon myrtle pavements and make wild art for no one to see,

Sing at pianos in dimly lit rooms within the labyrinth of my childhood home,

Cry over beautiful books and movies and memories - lost in a nostalgia so palpable I will taste the pine needle tea as if I had a steaming cup of it in my hand.

I want to sit on a fire escape in New York and watch an inky dusk descend, to tell strangers on the street how pretty their eyes are and watch them crinkle like paper at the corners,

To be so deeply moved by the delicate serendipity and balance of the world around me that language fails,

I want to exhaust myself in the glorious, dizzying pursuit of experience.