i am in love with sad eyes

i am in love with sad eyes
and dark hair
and dead sisters
and women behind restaurant windows

i am afraid of love
of suffering
of talking deeply with myself
my heart is like a jumping bean
without direction or movement
merely buzzing in place
hot to the touch
and hurt

i believe in melancholy
am addicted to it
and will not reach out
when the velvet curtains fall
leaving me struggling for air
aching for connection
communicating alone again