The Slumber. (My conception of perfection.)

Too far away and so irrelevant.
Everything out of touch.
Stuck in the moment.
No time.
No space.
It doesn't matter now.
All is gone.
And that's great.

I'll melt with the couch.
One liquid continuing it all.
Dripping on the floor.
I'll focus on the scapes.
Unite with the sounds.
They're so pretty.
This was great.
But not again.

Because when nothing mattered
When I was floating on the ground
I realised that
All I need
Is music in the background
And a place to lie down.
With you.