Because sometimes dreams can be arresting…
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Stolen kisses in hidden space,
Borrowed from inculpable place?
Back to young love from whence we fell
Where guilt-free lips refuse to dwell.
Every detail so clearly plays,
Of surreal yet fluent daze,
Where eyes are fixed and yearnings plea
For satiation in this spree.
Like matchsticks upon striking strips,
Love ignites in a full eclipse,
Obscuring what logic requires
With our culminating desires.
The kisses represent the wait,
And the time is taken from fate,
But I know I must give it back,
And the scene fades to misty black…
Now I rouse from a dream-filled play,
With lips untouched, to my dismay,
Where lingering icons remain
Of stolen love on borrowed plane.
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