I don’t know what’s real or not

I don’t know what’s real or notI know it’s realwhen you ate that orange with sheer delightand licked your lipswhen there’s a far-off tone to your voicewhen I heard your breath during sunrise It may be unrealwhen you dissipate from thoughts like the shifting of sandswhen you’re not who I want to hold hands withas

Special

The sounds of childrenthe prettiest of girlsthe innocent of boyswith hopes so bright The language of kidsso original and nicegives away the secretthat we’re all nice inside Our hearts, so transparentand only full of lovelike it’s been and supposed to benever mind the dust outside No matter what you doI’ll love you anywayI’ll look beyond