Finding you Undelicious

I haven't been knocked, and I haven't been tried. I guess we're even as far as that goes. I would like to hear more about the way you feel about me, and the way you'd like me to feel about you, and the way you'd like me to feel about you, which will require some gesturing. There is hope hiding behind my half-drawn eyes, and I hope you'll hear the hounds hopping in my heart as they howl the hours away with the haunting hymns of huckle-buckle-beanstalk. For all the fumbling of my furtive fingers, you have not yet given the A-OK nor the Hey-No-Way, which leaves me at a crossroads between Go-All-The-Way and Go-Home-and-Munk-in-a-Sock. This is either the twilight zone or the tipping point, and only time will tell, though if I know anything about time, it'll only tell us what we already know (not helpful.) Nothing is certain, but I'm pretty sure that I don't want to leave the room just yet, and there isn't much chance that you will ever find your way out if you haven't started by now.