R. M. Eichmiller Poet Quatrain

To Close

To close for comfort,
To far for love,
So close to flirt,
So close, unlike a wary dove, 

Half way to my heart, 
Quarter of the way to getting to yours, 
Lovely, my tears begin to start,
All I have to ask is, does your heart give tours?

I'd get close but my brain tells me to abort, 
I'm not one to push, force, or shove,
When I'm around you my gut always seems to contort,
I might sound lovesick, or head-over-heals, but I'm more than that, what I feel can't be understood by the good lord above,

Without you my life would fall apart, 
Without you I'd be on all fours, 
Crying my eyes out, the tears would never fail to start,
My tears would puddle on the floor.

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