Michael

This is the object of my desire.

I think I would run out in traffic if you told me I'd be reincarnated as a bottle of Stella Artois. So he could tip me, and sip me, and balance me gently on his fingers.

Pardon me if I get a little racy.

I can't have him for the asking, and I like that. I also can't offer myself to him willingly, and I like that. Regardless, his eyes ask me to stay, and come back, and it's not for my money, because he accepts none from me. Let's anticipate the evolution, shall we?