I want to be wrinkly.
Wrinkles are the result of a life well-lived. Wrinkles mean you smiled a lot, wrinkles mean you played the piano, or raised your eyebrows, or jumped or moved or ran, depending on their location. The bottom line is I want to have done all of those things, and so when I'm old I hope I smiled and ran and wrinkled, wrinkled and enjoyed every minute of it. I hope you wrinkled with me, I hope we smiled and ran together, or not together but at the same time, in different directions, in different places. I hope we smiled and ran into each other, and got a cup of coffee and talked about how we got our wrinkles and raised our eyebrows at each other and laughed, laughed so for every wrinkle we talked about we got ten more. I hope you told me about the wrinkles that you didn't tell other people; I hope it was dark and we walked on a cold windy beach and you told me about the wrinkles that came from crying or fighting or falling down the stairs. Wrinkles don't always mean happiness. They mean experience. I want you to have told me your experiences and I could tell you about mine and I want to have experienced with you and got wrinkles from it. I like it when you smile and when you smile you get wrinkles, you got wrinkles, and we could be wrinkly because we experienced everything together and smiled. I hope we were walking and someone offered us anti-wrinkling cream and we laughed and wrinkled because we wore our wrinkles on our sleeves. We let everyone see them and everyone got jealous because they were blank pieces of paper and we had lines all over us, our wrinkles were our lines, our wrinkles drew pictures of everything we did and didn't and wished we had and regretted and laughed about. We could be wrinkly because we wrinkled and loved every minute of it.
Wrinkle with me.