My dreams
don't have to occur in a frigid state,
where the wind blows across the Great Lakes and straight through me.

I
would rather be warm and happy
than cold
and admired
and
miserable.

I want lace and ruffles
Long skirts and demure smiles behind a dainty fan
I want a man to ask for permission
To kiss my gloved hand
I want love that burns and waits
And passion unbridled is released
When the formal skin is shed;
The beauty is in the contrast.

I stretch,
my body limber,
cat-like, and spry.
The right hand corner of my mouth
turns up into a smirk
as I sing my own praises.