Stuck on my innocence,
you were struck by my insouciance as I danced across a dangerously busy road,
handbag dangling from my wrist,
the handles clattering against my ever growing collection of colourful bracelets,
crying cars weaving all around me,
as my sense of adventure devoured my sense of self preservation.
and I’m bored of pretending otherwise.
I cross the road with a little flair,
not because I don’t care,
but because I’m living in a love song,
and nothing can possibly go wrong when your eyes are upon me.
It’s a winter morning,
but I am singing of Spring,
saving the date,
making space on my ring finger,
and you are subdued,
reduced to stunned silence by the silly siren you’ve ensnared.
I’ll always make it to the other side,
We’ve got plans.