(no subject)

[proximoception]

What you are and see and say
Is nearly always in the way
Between you and the one you seek.

But who that is could never be
Unless made out of you (so, me).
To meet one need but shift the sheet.

Yes, curving flesh and eye so bright,
It's you that are our pilot light.
Heaped mind, you make the voices speak.

I do not mean that we are they,
But just must, since we're worlds away
From any, catch their heat with heat.