No More Than Divided

When does
he, my need
become you?

When do
you, my desire
become him?

When will my head
transform
into my heart?

And my passion
morph
into sense?

When do
his strong promises
become
your sweet words?

When does
your flattery become
his truth?

I must
need the safeness
of his arms
I must
crave the taste
of your lips

I cannot submit.
I cannot let go.

Perfect existence
does not lay
in the middle
but out-of-reach at
both ends