this is a normal poem about love,
about a two people who see each other
for the first time and from the first time
it's perfect for a moment
until one unknowingly profanes the perfect illusion
that the other has devised in great detail
without evidence or corroboration
from the actual person whose eyes they met.
and from the first time in that first moment
they successfully create an alternate reality
populated by a pod person for their own pleasure
dedicated to the way they prefer to be touched.
the language of love is never made of words
until someone writes a poem just like this one
and ruins it for everyone.