My eyes don’t meet your mystery ones
because I’m afraid you’ll see
the absence of light in my cores
and conclude we’ll never be

My eyes shy from yours,
but not for why you think
I’m hiding the lack of twinkle
behind closed lids when I blink

Empty, which of us is empty?
At this point, I can’t tell
Your touch doesn’t titillate me
Au contraire, it makes me dwell

I don’t wish to discourage
though I do it rather well
I’m tense and distant, yes
How ever could you tell?