Perhaps

This conduit between our minds Has no business being there You do not want it, and I… Neither do I. The conduit makes us More than what we are, makes you More than you have any right to be, and I… It makes me less. So snap it, break it, Slice it in half. Throw the pieces over the edge, Over your shoulder, without looking, Let them clatter and clash, And fade in memory. But your eyes are so very blue, And you stand like this, And you swim like this, And you think like this, And I like the taste of your words On my tongue Before you’ve even said them, And I like the sound of your voice Singing along to the radio In the car, And I like the darkness You pretend isn’t getting to you, So very like my own. Perhaps I like the pain this conduit will bring. Perhaps I think I deserve it. Perhaps I have no business dealing in perhapses and maybes. Perhaps I have no business with love at all. Perhaps those icy eyes have noticed my grey ones, And perhaps not. Perhaps not.