It would be easy to misinterpret
This wordless banter; our vocal eye contact
The Lord chose the printed word for a reason
We could not hold up under eye contact
I am lost in the mirrors of your teeth
And your eyes repeat me, twice
In this warmth I am telling you things
My body creates broken sentences
Which my lips put to death before they reach you
Can you see their ghosts in my eyes?
I mean what I look; but I can't see what you mean.