we could be but we wont. because woody allen lies.

I cannot love you
because then
what would we do?
 we
you and I
in whatever we posses
are such little
fragments
that no matter what collisions we may try to bring
we will never
set anything
ablaze
I cannot love you
because we will not ride in cars
we will not
lie on the floors of duplexes
in cities grand industrial
fearful in their great
engulfing throats
we will not mirror image each other
read the same books
and fall into
and indulge
our own insignificance
I cannot love you
and it snatches away
room to breath
I see you and you are a man
you have gone
"at dusk through narrow streets,
the muttering retreats"
and you have danced carelessly in rooms full of people
people who are ghostly figues holding their martini
glasses
cocktail dresses
side conversation
with eyes duct taped upon their gray
sluggish
matter
duct taped upon you
just to make their
withering
questioning
home to terror
masked with falling peace
 faces
lighten up at your humility.

I cannot love you
how could I
I want to love you
but so is the want

how could I
give in to the desire
to breed
catastrophe.