The vision of you clouds my mind,
As I picture the blurry haze of your soft lips on mine.
You peck and nibble like a wild bird gunning for its prey.
I pray that this dream will never turn into anything obscene,
As the way you make me feel resembles a movie scene.
Our plots intertwine like poison ivy on an ancient oak tree,
Digging their claws deeper into the bark,
In the hope that they too can be a part of something that can leave an extraordinary mark.
Better on Paper 
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