I want to be glacial. Strong, slender, tall, powerful. Dressed in a crisp white linen dress that falls at my calves and sporting chunky heeled sandals. A barely worn bag sits loosely in the crevice on the inside of my elbow - empty, spare a few novels, a wallet, my laptop, and two cell phones.
I breeze past the produce section of a grocery store, making direct eye contact with passerby's but never really seeing them. I walk with purpose, and people move to accommodate my path of direction.
I seem unkind at first glance, but my face softens as my lips spread into a soft smile. You know me, you see me all the time, perhaps daily.
Maybe I'm your neighbor. You see me awaken early to go for a run and rush to work. Sometimes I take the trash out, or leave my yoga mat in the backyard.
I could be your customer - coming in arbitrarily but always purchasing the same items. All of them fit in my arms.
Perhaps I'm your wife. Perhaps you wake up next to me every day, tell me your secrets. Perhaps you've known me for years.
I'm so close - you could touch me, punch me, talk to me, kiss me, fuck me. But I'm still so far away.