Backseat Brainwashing

There are two bodies in the backseat of my brain,
Exchanging long-winded lists of sins and ice-cream scoops.
Their eyes are glued to the forbidden corners
of unfamiliar discoveries.
Without parting gazes, their eyes opened
To more than just each others' bare bodies.
Without moving lips, they vehemently changed
The meaning of every conversation they ever shared.
The space that once severed their unison
Now wrapped them together in an invisible embrace,
In a secret bond, their stares knotting their ties,
Their whispers transforming strings into lace.
They wrapped up their conversation in silence,
With one pair of sleep-deprived eyes
Protesting that love is merely an artful ploy
Fashioned by delusional youth,
Who, bemused and ensorcelled by the lyrical unknown,
Insist on dipping their feet into what is but
A desolate lake of fictitious reveries.
In the last livid moments before the oncoming of darkness,
The second pair of veteran eyes
Conjures, in desperation, a fragmented daydream.
There appears an imaginary punching bag:
For every loving moment, comes a wanton destruction
In conscious delusion.
There, in the midst of their surrender,
lies the blind awakening of two destitute beings in love.