"All that we see or seem is but a dream"

My dreams.

Was it real, or was all a dream? Last night I did, or didn't, lay with you. The lines or reality and fantasy blur. I find myself never wanting to wake from these dreams of you. Your touch feels so soft and real against my skin. And your voice so soft and sweet as it feels my ears. But all that vanishes in a instance. When I awaken from my paradise.