Walking out of an unforeseen place.
Were you created from air with that grace?
You can't be from this world with that angelic face.
You are an apparition.
A bad joke God is playing on me.
Why are you approaching my anatomy?
A Look of interest you do possess.
Am I awake or very distressed?
I pinch myself and look at your figure.
You still approach, it must be the liquor.
Are you walking on air?
Floating toward me with that sensual stare?
Your feet have to be touching the ground.
Your mouth moves, but I do not hear a sound.
God's Trick!
Or, maybe I'm getting sick?
I knew you could not be real.
Then the truth is known, when I feel,
Your hand grasping mine;
I shudder; but I will be fine.
I'm still skeptical; then a voice,
"Hi! I said my name is Mychell!"
I smile because there is only one choice:
"My name is Devin," I reply. "Do tell!"
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