tell me a story, love,
your voice low and rich,
a sweet tranquilizer
like jazz music
in the heaviness of midnight.

i’ll close my eyes
and wrap myself up with warmth
and greedily consume
the words with which you bewitch
me.

something tells me
it would be easy to lose myself
with you;
i read your poetry in the candlelight,
counting down the hours
until i could see you again.

the line’s been blurred
between dream and reality;
wherever you are
is where i want to be. 

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