"And what if it goes any farther..."

A Poem by PoeT4994

More on human interaction.

If my heart breaks down on the highway of my fingertips,
I apologize that I didn't grab your hand quick enough.
And if "Hi..." doesn't drip from my thirsty mouth the first time we make contact,
I promise to be the Atlas of this crumbing world falling apart at the seams from the pressure between our bleeding bodies,
we are burning before breathing and though we smell the smoke,
it is only a sign from my tribal instincts to yours that we need to stop with all of this deaf talk,
stop.
Now strain your eyes trying to see if I'm looking too.
Now act like it's not important.
Like it doesn't mean the universe for me to peripheral glance all of the thirty minutes we are in the same area.
We are fragile,
I understand,
even though we both know we shouldn't be.
So I ask you,
if I told you that your smile holds the density of a dying sun,
would you assume that I am saying that you have a fat face,
or would you assume I mean your hair is a solar flare of liquid and gas dripping,
and your words are planets.
How gravity flattens when you blink and you walk like it would kill us if you were anywhere but where you are at that exact moment.
We don't see it.
We are all going too fast in circles to grasp it and you are just and richeous in your movements,
grace is calm,
and our nervous systems are too broken to understand the concept of coping,
so believe me when I say,
I'm not the only one who wonders blindly when you are around...
Stop.
Now open your eyes.
Stop waiting for me to kiss you.
We don't have enough memories lacquered in these rusty hinged doors of arms to let eachother in all the way,
and to be honest,
you might fall in love with me if I push those doors open.
So I suppose we should just stop knocking on hollow bodies.
And stop wishing for miracles.
I thought I saw a star shoot through your body the way it locked up when I walked by you.
But the odds of that are like turning air into gold.
And this planet, full of dust and old civilizations too foolish to represent as a landmark in the universe,
can't handle those kinds of thermodynamics.
Not right now.
We're both too brittle.
Both too prepared to not give in.
We're just gonna hit,
and turn into something else full of optimistic beings stuck believing that everything happened because of some god,
as opposed to this big bang theory called us.
And we will laugh until we die.
At how stupid it sounds.
Of something good coming from two people meeting.