A friend once said, “please understand,
when two minds meet, things can get out of hand.”
You offer your thoughts, and I offer mine,
We never intended to be so unkind.
Personalities clash; there’s an insurrection,
The conversation runs in the wrong direction.
Refusing to honor our own discretion,
We bloody ourselves with our own projections.
Our paradigms meet, but to find protection,
We refuse to yield to an operative connection.
Listening closely would be an objection,
You want to induce a formal subjection.
We just don’t know how to handle the question
Of whether or not there’s a realistic expression.
Both of our hearts lying in a cross section,
Waiting for contact from the other direction.
We garnish our thoughts with a hopeful suggestion
and lift up our heads with an innocent confession.