Here are my words:
Between us we keep space, but no secrets.
Against our skin the world feels harsh; needing the blurred lines of a dream.
Edges are too sharp for touching and I cannot feel.
My tears and your laughter, both flowing like water.
Knowing what comes next is step two.
Knowing the pieces of my whole equals us, just two.
I can easily swim through your thoughts like a fish in water.
You can hear it, but tell me how you feel.
We both hate this dream.
Wishing for youthful secrets.
This secret and lonely dream feels a bit like trying to pour water
from one large pitcher into little tiny glasses without spilling.
A now uncomfortable dinner for two.