Sentiments of g (6)

If it’s a simulation, right? I imagine your locked chest

To know what’s inside, I imagine what’s inside,

And the simulation locks you inside (my chest)

Look at you (out of my locked breast)

I open my notepad, open my heart, open the door

To know you (you can’t see yourself in my chest)

I find myself (cardgame to your breast)

Chasing down a simulation, you and me,

Somehow, tho without touching, I can touch