What I really meant by "no"

Truth to be told,
we are too much
alike

and my heart
joined with yours
draws a perfect
question mark.

We discuss
ethics.

Free association:

I say prison bars,
you come back
with protection.

You argue
in my favor
and I find the smallest flaw
hidden like a scared moth
in your woolen argument.

You reply
with an open door
and warm words
of caution,
so I give back
the scent of baked apple
and a little too much
fear of rejection.

We play

cat and mouse
except neither of us
is the cat.

Thus I spend my days
imprisoned in myself,
claiming that the key to my freedom
is too rusty for these clean hands
I boast about, these clean hands
meant to make
my bodyguard feel safe.

(but if you really must know -
I’ve never known myself, darling,
whether we really do
speak different languages

or it’s just a boundary thing.)