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The Illusion

He intoxicated me
The Illusion

I am drawn to you

Like a moth to a flame

And fear I might

Just get burned.

But I am more than fascinated

I am addicted and

No longer in control of

The urges you create.

What is this face presented to

The world versus the one

That only we can see?

Which is real, you or me?

So I sit in the near dark

And sip my wine thinking of you.

I wonder to myself

Are you the answer or the question?

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