Speaking from the heart is not necessarily a good idea, particularly if the person you're speaking to is listening from the head.
It's a risk after all. You go out there on a limb and - yes, there you are, out on a limb. Like a snail without its shell, like a baby bird with no feathers, while the chilly winds of reason whip about you.
Poets need to remember, I suppose, that not everyone is a poet. That words don't count, or can't be nearly precise enough to take us where we want to be. As Margaret Attwood said, "the Eskimo have fifty words for snow because it's important to them; there ought to be as many for love". But there aren't, not even for Margaret. So what hope is there for the rest of us?
Let's stick to the bare facts, then. Stop that romanticising claptrap right now. Bring on the maths and physics, the evaluation and the objective test.
And don't gaze into her eyes like that - it doesn't mean anything. The eyes are not the windows to the soul: they are organs for converting light into electromagnetic impulses.
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