united sorry

Living in Paris, for a week.
Totally lost, in a mist of going on.
Nothing anymore to dream about.
Or am I wrong here,
Dwelling in a turmoil of nothingness.
Yes, I just want to sleep.
Sleep on the balcony of my despair.
Smelling the forest sweat of your fur.
Disappearing in the comfort of your casual embrace.
You are so big,
And always there.
To protect me, to let me rest.
Is this what love is about?
Or are you only the result of me, not accepting reality as it is.
Fuck reality.