Something in Us I Dare Not Whisper II

It is so unlike the radiance of familiar affections

And much averted affectations.

So unlike the disguised bliss rushed in -from a cataract romance.

Its aroma fans out and kisses their souls-to-

Fuse- Coalesce- run- and battered together.

-Even from miles apart-

The flesh tastes indifference- lust defeated- as their minds defrost.

It’s so unlike her fiction- and so unlike his verity.

The emotion half travelled in a bridge where the two edges converge-

And the end seems eternal like its contradicting travellers.

After all-                    

Where the pebble does stands if it forgets to-

-Treasure – discern- and cherish

The very grain of sand that fosters it?