Tell me Andrew,
Do I not bring you pure bliss?

Pure bliss
Is broken stems blooming flowers.
Is stars at late nights breath
Is a cat's sleeping faces smiling.

Pure bliss,
Is someone sad spreading smiles,
Is morning breaths tasting warmth
Is a drying constellation of tears.

Pure bliss,
Is bass pumping through deaf ears
Is expert violin on underdogs fingertips,
Is happiness heard through a tune.

Pure bliss,
Is soft warm skin of those who sleep,
Is kitten fur on rough hands,
Is hands gripping backs, afraid of letting go.

Pure bliss, my dear,
Is far from what you brought me.