Turbulence

hovering just above normal
                                       just below sane
                               we imagine
                      a line but the edges are blurred like rain
           approaching 
infinity but never reaching
                                     the expectation
                            and we imagine 
                  perfection but the results are varied not stained
         encroaching 
 into our bliss
                    a constructed ideal
              which we imagine
        exists but reality is lost without pain
   exfoliating
our souls

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