I know that I love you
And it is an inconvenient fancy that causes my mind to wander:
(It soars to the moon and only returns with a moonbeam at night)
Whereupon I dream of you: how you fix your eyes on my face
And you then slide them off like a silk robe, instead of simply removing them.
Or about how you see through me like glass, making me want to hide…
But you like my flaws and preen them like a dove with a broken wing.
You are serious with me, and it is intimidating and thrilling contemporaneously
-Like a roller coaster tightly wrapped around my heart
Strangling, yet screaming with joy.
And my heated blood races through my veins, as if to search for you inside the darkness
And waiting for your hot breath and whispers, which say that I'm like you,
And then I spend day after day and all night wondering what you mean
And this is why loving you is an inconvenient fancy, inescapable
(Yet completely desirable).