I sat, with my legs folded under me- 
on the top of the tip of a star,
awestruck by the universe of souls
that passed.

                  Virtuously impatient I
                  was wondering, waiting,
                            watching the whims of the ones that
                            thought they touched me.

Then…..
From afar I saw the faint pulse
          of your colours, beckoning,
            enticing,
                weaving spells
                around the essence of my desire,
                the pool of my needs,
                the search of my soul

You are the soul forged
         from a thousand prisms
a searcher that voyages to find
To find and forget
To forget what you need
To need what is already there
There then your soul,
 flippant with colour
              changes.
                    Carelessly the current
                                     of your
                                         flow

throwing you back into the
lap of my fantasy
far from reality
far from me
far from the other souls
that
     thought
           they touched me like you

without ever touching me...