The ecstasy that the dreamers trade their lives for, pay hundreds for, search the world and back for, exists purely in the moment your lips reveal crystal whites and your eyes grow wide and look to mine just to see that I'm laughing. It's one hell of a drug sprinkled into countless wordless moments that speak volumes. Sunbeams that calm my harrowing inner hurricanes. I roll my body over to rest on your warm chest and nuzzle into the crest of your neck as your arms open like the grand golden gate of glee. This precious comfort is a euphoric numbness that I should be overrun with fear of losing, and I would be, if it were possible to feel anything but bliss in the moments we touch. It's trust. Being apart reminds me of the threat of a life without you but its unfathomable like fiction.