Paradise

I often dream that paradise is found within your arms,

A precipice that I teeter on before finally plummeting into your embrace,

The moment before I feel your hands on my back there is nothing except the ecstasy of your presence invading my own,

You, such a familiar face but a voice I have only heard in passing,

For if our paths were to cross I think I surely would stumble on to yours,

Forgetting my own dreams,

Traversing in tandem with yours,

If I am merely a wanderer then hopefully it is your world that I become lost within,

The only tether drawing me home is the warmth of your words as you tell me how your days was,

And you ask me about mine,

And as I spin you a tale of woe,

You won’t seem to mind,

I often dream that paradise was lost the day I let you walk by,

Now there is nothing and I can’t even ask why…

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