Raw oysters as a metaphor

I see me in the pupils
Of eyes in the lift mirror
Lift is not elevator in some worlds
My eyes, too fluid for their own taste
"Raw oysters okay?"
Next time say no
Red embroidery on a white sheet
Those eyes

In the most non-chest-heaving sense
Or the not-able-to-see-the-ceiling sense
Dizzy and heavy and light
Even if just to side-step boundaries
Into a place too personal
Intimate is a different word
"If you don't then lie"
He sings

Fluidity comes during the unexpected
Sometimes with a "But you're so beautiful"
Other times need to be forgotten
And then fluid two-of-everything
Spilled like beans on cold marble
Some undusted corners under the bed
"Are you alright?"
Next time use raw oysters as an excuse