For this month, I am obsessed with you. You young little elf of my dream, You smell like the awaited prince of my desire. You sound like the white melody echoing in my well. You feel like the cold midnight warmth. You with your demure eyes peering through shaggy hair. You with your smile that supposedly trapped maiden merrier than me. For now, you are the subject of my occasional daydream. The fingertip that barely touched me through the fabric, have left traces in my mind. I still hold my breath when I recall the way you stood only a breath away. I still wonder if you did that to purposefully fluster me. But miserably so, I am not yet blind so I know that you only come to play and entice me for only this winter. I know you and your elvish kind, you lure me to your forest but since I am no blind, I escape your trap. My coy fairy come only just as the leap day or stay long just as the valentine.
Yours even in my delusion.