my fingers keep touching you, yet somehow
we never touch. you're too
ethereal, like most others
here. not that you're real - that's your beauty.
like the gentle slant of your eyes
healing me by single looks
your hands sinously waving
healing hands they are
just you and me, nothing between
we're between nothing
and as i touch you, you move
with every move of your legs
that barbie doll perfection plasters shards of yourself
deep inside the mind we share.
the way your hair blows in the wind
and yet somehow is perfect everytime
it stay with me
and i think of you
far too much for our own good.
i load you up
my avatar, icon, persona, shadow
we're one, and yet you're just bytes.
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