I’m so cheerful that I’m finally conferencing about, my fantasy,
It might seem so abstruse,
But this fantasy, I’m about to relate to you is just too much,
I’m despondent when I wet dream in my bed,
Knowing very well that you’re not besides me,
This fantasy is just, too much.
I wake up red-faced in the middle of 3am,
Only to budge my hands to the other side of my bed,
You’re not with me.
This fantasy is just, too much,
That, I can no longer hang onto it.
The wake ups during the wee hours are just, too much,
This fantasy is just A1 with its own lane.
From the back of my humanity,
This fantasy is just what I think of, about you,
What I adore, from you,
What I want, from you,
And the moon between your eyes.
This fantasy will always be too much,
Will always be there and here.
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