It goes like this
She offers her hand
You take it, she
Pulls back, says
“It’s not that cold”
She offers her eye
You catch it, she
Takes it back, says
“Keep your eye on the road”
She offers her heart
You take it, she
Lets you hold her, says
“I’m dying”
Ben Paynter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trouble-with-love/
