Beating Around the (Love) Bush

Where do clairvoyance
and tangible sensations
go to make love at night?
Will the desolate mystic, and
the overdone psychiatrist
ever break bread in agreement
and give due salutations
to the archetypal mystery
that is the cosmos?

Let's stupify the white coats
by creating new molecules
from an unknown substance
only us two can produce
in reverent moments.
Forge a new alien energy
that eludes
their complex measuring tools -
avoid being defined by
numbers and variables,
another example in a textbook.

I wrote these turbulent words
in between bitter bites
of this social formality
thrust between us
by those assuming power.
What's wrong?
I'd love to tenderly
rip you open and
find the rest of these
senseless sentences
lodged in the affection
you begrudgingly hold hostage
from both of us.