My Heart Bleeds For Fiction

My heart bleeds for fiction
The slavish depictions conjured
On letters and words once divorced
In papyrus and pulp once crumbled

My soul yearns for fantasy
The pumpkin transforming to carriage
Of hidden treasure chests filled with bullion
And a handsome prince to sweep me off my feet

My body craves for reality
The beating and humming of a heart not mine
Heat exuding, traveling through his skin
Little pulsations, brief vibrations.