أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

since thought of you won't let me sleep, the least i can do is haunt you in your dreams, pleasantly of course, and this is how i'd have it be: my apparition there, in my stead, to send tingly chills down your spine, echoing in your fingers and your feet, reminiscent to some degree, of other stimuli for destinations not yet reached. 

your laugh, of sounds among the sweetest to my ears, like a tuning fork playing a piano made of glass, so crystal, so clear, as if, that's how laughter was meant to leave the lips. perhaps i'm swimming still, could not say, or perhaps i taste my icing and the cake, who knows, such amazing gifts He gives, for my senses and my soul, to unwrap them all this life i live.