Tell Me, George

I know it is your birthday, George and you have plans all day, I only need your answer now today, my friend, today. Have you once felt the titillation of foreign skin, of luscious lips of breasts with unbeknownst dimensions, and of no fragrance drifting in? Does one not need the laws of physics, the tangible of real worlds, to have one's senses in alertness or are there laws that govern dreams? And you, the wise one, must reveal what secrets do exist for me. Are we the victims of the spirits that play their lusty games with us? Is it the greening of the valley, the comfort of the river's mumble, or clouds which can descend upon our comfort zones and dump their load or has our soul just sensed its mate through atmospheres that are unknown? I know I cannot now prevail, must let you go on distant journeys but tell me George, can it be real to feel a touch that can't be there?