Similiar shapes

We wrote on napkins
like tainted sheets
of paper
with pens
that were running out of ink
anyhow.
I wrote in french
and you wrote in blood
snow was caught
on tongues
almost auspiciously
but it was overcast
figuratively speaking
and you said
you'd rather
let go
than spend another minute
tangled with my limbs
askew, and on the lawn
for the neighbors
to gawk at
and I realized
you and I
we're not simliar shapes
and sideways glances
are only metaphors
for people who look too deeply
into nothing.