Wanting reverie

Intoxicated desires
of the moonlight,
look different the morning after,
a little faded,
a little bleached,
aweary and careworn.
So I hold dear,
the warm dreams
of wintery nights,
where you consume me
and I devour you,
the sweet alternative reality
that leads me astray.
A loved one tells me,
every now and then,
that dreams too often become reality.
So, deep down,
adrift in wanting reverie,
I pray
that time could stand still,
becalmed and frozen
and I could behold
the beauty of your being
forever in my eyes.
Basically I bide time,
for unfinished thoughts
and exalting fantasies.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Reality