Dreaming is a drug.

There’s a dangerous quality,

And yet, you just can’t refrain.

Some are good, healthy, even,

But there are some that distort your mind,

Your feelings and your heart rate.

Velvet caresses your body in the form of

A pill, an illusion, a feathery powder.

Close your eyes and let it wash over you.

The only thing the dream cannot get rid of

--Rather, it emphasizes it terribly—

Is a pair of green-grey eyes, intense and laughing.

Intoxicated, you sway towards the owner,

Carefully stumbling in the direction of a smiling, desiring face.

Your heart pulses sickeningly and your breath leaves you.

Your mind cannot control its racing ideas,

And your eyes flutter open, hoping, wishing, wanting.

This drug, this powerful narcotic, is love