Your flesh, smooth like
a silken glove, moulds
to the touch. Is there
so much that I can
share with you? We
press close together
dreaming of boundaries
that meld in fusing.
Can we imagine
Platos story true,
that a unity existed
once for every stricken
two that struggles now
to undo finally that
ancient separation?
Yet both of us can
recognise the curse
that locates within us
two separated beating
hearts. We can smile
at the ancient philosophers
joke, knowing that
our isolation must
choke us eventually.














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