Fancy

Perhaps I sit too long in my desires

Like a warm afternoon in the sun that twinges my skin for days after,

Like devouring sweet juicy oranges until my throat burns from the stinging citrus,

Like reading one more page before bed and stoking my anticipation

Until hours and chapters have flown by rendering my book read and my sleep meager.

But the force of my blood as it races through me is intoxicating and much safer the a

Souped up car on a city street,

The thudding of my heart is much sweeter music then all those awkward conversations

That tend to ring in my head,

And the dreams that smouldering energy can foster

Far outweigh the dark and anxious terrors of a typical night.

Perhaps I sit too long in my desires

But what can one expect from a girl raised on fairytales

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