What if I couldn't see you? Would I love the way you look tonight? Or that wouldn't matter? Because you couldn't see me too. Because you couldn't see me too.
What if I couldn't feel your touch? What if I couldn't feel your skin, when touching your face? Would I care? Or that wouldn't matter? Because you wouldn't care too.
Would I know that I'm kissing your lips and not someone else's, if I couldn't taste them? Would that matter if you couldn't tell, whom are you kissing back?
Would I know who is whispering silly things into my ear if I couldn't hear? Would I know it's you? Or that wouldn't matter? Because knowing that I couldn't hear you, you wouldn't whisper a single silly word to me.
Do these things matter in love? In being close? Do they create our perception? Sure they do. In a way. I'm sure about one other thing too: You can't see, feel, hear, taste or smell a soul. Can you? I doubt it.
Something else matters, when you love a person. When you're close. Something we can't identify with known to all perception.