you can pry soft indulgent John from my cold dead hands
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The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire,
not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
the way we look like animals,
his skin barely keeping him inside.
I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
You could drown in those eyes, I said."
-Richard Siken, Little Beast
Sherlock can understand the poetry of it. Soul mates, eternal love, the gaps between your fingers where another's will fit in perfectly.
Such things, however, are meant for people who are whole and unbroken.