The Traveller
By: Christopher Bice

I feel the seductive caress to my subconscious. A gentle brush against my psyche, like a lost memory bringing warmth to your soul. Closing my eyes, I reach out to you with my mind, "What do you want?" I ask.

You answer, "You."

I feel you pulling me free from the confines of my body. "No," I plead, "If I come to you again, I may lose myself forever, in your vastness, your beauty." But it is too late. My mind leaps forward to explore your heavenly universe alongside you. Light years away you whisper, "Come to me my traveler."

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