inseparate

there’s a current
pulling at my blood,
teaching its pulse to beat
in time with your own, but
the rhythm of the thing
is just a little off,
leaving my guts
twisted and edgy,
a sound of adrenaline
in the inner recesses
of my ears;
that must be why
looking you in the eye
leaves me dizzy and off-balance
and in describing you
i find myself
more a doctor than a poet.