I don’t belong in your world, it is beautiful and graceful and full of things to see. That is all I’d ever do however is look through the glass, because it is not me and never will be. I will always peer longingly, but know that that is not where I belong and never will belong. I will crave your tantalizing harmonic notes of your voice and your cool effervescent style, the confidence you wear wherever you go and the light faux smile. That is your world, however that is your world alone. Your world seems to have no mud or muck. It is a place of perfection where my clumsiness would be unwelcome. I would be unsophisticated enough to dine by your side. Not beautiful enough to be strictly arm candy. Not brainy enough to have a leading role im conversation. I wouldn’t really fit anywhere. I am me. I am the early morning dew, fresh and untainted by the soils of the day. I am the fawn in the meadow, cautious and jovial with a first time view to all I see. I am the comforter on a cold winter night, supportive and safety till dawn break again. I am not of that world from whence you came. I know that and with indifference the same, I crave that sincere complexity. This is the world I dreamed of. A land of pearls and lace, may the rich get richer and the poor be lost in reveries of my past. I know that this craving cannot be healthy lest I yearn for early death to conform to an existence in which I don’t belong. As long as I live let me crave your exotic skin, but let it live on my lops alone for any farther would be sin. So in time, let me be betrothed and still carry on in pleasure all the wonders of living in my own world.