I want to go to Buenos Aries.
I want to dance the tango. Even if I dance it badly, I want to do it once. I want to wear 4 inch stiletto heels while I dance, and a red dress that has slits to expose my legs.
I want to hear the noise and music on the crowded streets and go to a club at 2:00 AM to watch the tango dancers exhibit their prowess, their passion, and sometimes their politics.
I want to feel the stifling afternoon heat and listen to the babble of Spanish language all around me, while I only understand every 4th word. I want to sweat in the 3:00 PM sun and go back to my air conditioned hotel room for a cool shower and a siesta before my midnight dinner.
I want to walk the streets late at night. I want to explore the cemetery where Eva Peron lies 18 levels below the surface.
I want to drink Malbec wine until my lips are stained a dark red.
I want to dance the tango before I die.