Outside The World

Emma and me, outside the party, outside the world.
The night is warm in the first of September, clear, open.
We talk as if we could still walk among the stars, like children.
We talk as if the world never fell, and paradise was still here.
 She lays her head upon my shoulder, and I kiss her head.
Her hand holds mine, and we are warm, clean, like Eden.
She turns up her face, and I softly kiss her lips, taste the apple.
Her hand on my face, such sweetness became the fall, forever.
 The sky is filled with stars, and the moon moves wild tides.
She hung her name somewhere in Andromeda, for me to find.
Find her name, find the spell dream and desire and lust have cast,
as loud laughter and thumping music betray a perfect night.
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