As wise as you are and as mad as a hatter, as pushing and pulling, as scared and undisturbed, as unwilling to surrender, to live, to be with me – not able, I believe you dear that unable you may be… You smell like heaven.

And if this is the only thing I can’t deal with right now – it’s not too bad, is it?

It’s that and that I will not open my heart to you when I dance with you – not yet.