My blood in your eyes

It's not that I blame myself for how you are. I am not at fault. But there is a tacit explanation on offer. You are you because I am me. There really is a spectrum.

Your traits are watered down in me. I can see me in your eyes. I know where you are.

Can you see where I am? Will you come to visit me?
Please. do.
Come. and. stay.

Do you know what trust is? I think you do. Then hear this.
You can learn. You can adapt. You can change.
It's supposed to click.

Well freaking click already!

I lay with you on the hard floor.
We see the same things.
But can miss the obvious.
We know intuitively what others must deduce.
But have to read the rest thrice.
We recall detail where others don't even notice.
But we forget the rest.
(Any time of the day is a good time for pie)

I love the hustle and bustle of a busy city street. But I am a voyeur from my balcony. I am here but I am not engaged. Is this you too? Perhaps I am on the second floor and you are in the penthouse?

I know you like my hugs. I like yours.