by this Elizabeth
A black victorian, open
red carpet kisses the entry
silver ribbons and bells adorn
midnight stallions and our intrigue
For me, he has braided his locks
long onyx lit with sunset's gleam
his calloused hand offers me up
into this fantasy I dreamed
Sable furs on red velvet seats
our audience, society
and I so touched I nearly weep
he dangles opportunity
I immigrated on less hope
self-exiled and all alone
and by the time we cross the moat
I am no longer on my own
We are peers; perhaps even more
our laughter and sharp words warm us
he holds hopes and the carriage door
and I would settle for just this lust
