
I feel panicked in the need of you,
drowned in desire,lost in lust.
It is temporary and magnificent.
Unknown, new, foreign.
I have ideals you aren’t allowed to tread upon,
yet I feel your boots dangerously close.
I have reason, I have statistics,
I have the notions you should not ignore.
I throw dying leaves to a cooling wind.
Their landing is not important,
only the flight and tumble,
only the forbidden spaces between.
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