Soup's on

I�m sittin� �ere before the screen
surrounded by some friends unseen
A touch or two behind the scene
With senses oiled in Irish mist
and memories of those I�ve kissed
In ecstasies of rising bliss
And sweet fantasia�s emptiness
Of spinning into deeper eyes
That even thee can fantisize
And in this space of aura sense
I feel I cannot recompense
This feeling of belonging
This answer to my longing
So out of touch
And yet so much
Of ephereal bonding