Fleeting eye contact is painful.
I want that moment to stretch,
windows left open, souls bared without words.
I want individuality to manifest itself on the Quad,
for my smile to reach its widest before they look away,
and for their intererst in their surroundings to shape the way they walk.
I want words exchanged, colors blended, people shaped by the end of their day.
Questions asked to strangers, to themselves, that derail self-interest.
Plans interrupted, improvisation employed, moments left
to create themselves by chance and not by agenda.
I want a dozen priorities stripped down to one passion,
where identity is born, time becomes productive,
and confidence replaces the stammering
response to "So what do you do?".