Yes, we could meet as strangers do, and feel
Our way around
each other from outside
Ourselves, where need commands and love must kneel—
Where passion
always tastes of wounded pride—
Where friction rules, and the release is all.
But none of that
can touch my heart like one
Caress from you, which breaks down every wall
In me—a grace that
can’t be shared or done
By any stranger.
Only those who see
And seek the intimate with
eyes of love
Know how to gentle as they rouse, and be
Strangers to all
but the communion of
Two hearts—each
to the other always true,
Because they
never meet as strangers do.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells
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