Ecstasy

A weird ecstasy fills me up when visions of you emerge inside my fantasies

and I then fail to distinguish reality from fantasy

Your skin more transparent and soft than it might ever be under all real circumstances

Your voice sweeter than a nightingale, like summer wind caressing my soul

Your eyes more caring than I could ever imagine

Your shape and poise lovely

Your smile precious

If this is a fantasy, what does reality look like?

I may be dreaming endlessly with these visions of you

and if this is not ecstasy then I do not what it is.

And if this is a fantasy, oh! Let reality be a fantasy –

and fantasy be reality –

and do not let me be able to distinguish between them forever.

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