Your stale insides crack under the pressure

Of my cautious advances

Skin on skin is only so meaningful

When mind on mind applies

And I'm trying to glue these ripped images together

Pictures of what we could be

But it just is not right

Cold lips cold hands

Cold silence between us

Like a brick wall piled over the sunlight

Goosebumps paint my skin when you speak

And my heart races when our elbows brush

And our glances mean more than the day

But the only attribution you seem to strive for

Are the physical components of this equation

Touch

Feel

Does the metaphysical element of it all not squeeze your mind?

Why must you stay in the tangible realm of things?