Feeling like a hopeless romantic today where everywhere I look I see her face; the one who bolted at the first sign of true commitment. She is the fox who haunts my thoughts plagues every moment of my dreams. Her laughter jolting every desire to hold her near me, to keep her there in my arms as long as it will produce more of the joyous sound. Her crimson curls do not match her amber eyes, even when they fill with the sparkle of mischief. The prowl after the heart she still palms in her hands the putty she molds the wolf in pursuit. Playful nips at the strings keep my chase unyielding, even as the game seems fruitless it only chases her back into the den. Where he bides his time for her to realize he will be the one who listens when it falls apart again.