I met you twice.
Once in reality, once in my dreams. Your skin tasted like the smell of the humid air after the rain, merging both lives into one the noir dreams and the reality of nirvana.
Hallucinating each brain cell into this delusional taste of your soul that despairs me of processing what my pupils can see.
The incantation your fingers played is like a loud instrument awakening my hypnagogic illusions.
As we fall, in between you stand precaution to plunge into the eroticism of your soul and governed by your cerebrum.