Cross over the bridge to get to the sea
When I am with you, how joyous are we
Because you are the illusion of what I want me to be
Smack me with words; punch me with hate
One does not mind when he realizes too late
Shine on the water; shine on the seas
You are the illusion of what I want you to be
The sand and the water are too much for the beach
The tide comes in, in order to reach
See the young child climbing the tree
That is the illusion of how it should be
The mountains that tower over the trees
The ice that breaks and flows to the sea
Two loving bodies as close as can be
Are all part of the illusion, and so are we.
Copyright 1983 Scott C. Forrest
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