You said we are meaning making machines
and I thought in a wave of something breathless
how I wished some things be true and full of meaning
as if meaning could be color or weight or density
Next I thought of you saying color is not there
while abstracting weight from density
rendering everything light like air

How to make love to one without metaphors
Like flaming hearts and deep sea eyes
Souls uniting in ceremony and circumstance
with the magnitude of life converging with purpose
Perhaps I strain in these attempts
affixing you and I to something bigger
than cells adjoining amongst a sea of meaningless
matter and being

Maybe my right is only partway so
and our bodies are the opposite ends of palindromes
one meaning only half of what it ever could
without the shapes and sounds of the other