I look into your eyes
and see you inhaling me
And I wonder at the fact
that you can not want me;
This is identically the source
of not insignificant resentment
for me
when I consider the converse.
I am a hypocrite, I guess.

Symmetry breaks
your eyes close
your arm reaches out
and you touch me

I am balanced
we are stuck
the energy topography of this
landscape is impossible to
traverse
conversations are left unspoken
in favor of pregnant silences
and sleep

You, no I don't want
to get too deep
in trouble
the cynicism vector
leaps, swinging violently
like a pendulum within me
Love is a word in a poem
and not irrelevant, here
but ...