For you, my dear, the best alone
is good enough:
only the purest, only the true:
So each kiss I steal from your lips --
like Robin's gifts --
I add to your spirit's few.
The worldly hold you
in such regard,
you're wealthy from all their praise;
But to touch you not is
to touch your soul
in still far lovelier ways...
How many are those who would
stay their hand
to hold what cannot be reached?
Or speak with their silence --
their honor's voice --
whose call even angels beseech?
I know the distance
can seem so far,
those times when bodies are near;
But the truth is mystical,
magic and fey:
that souls make love when they fear.
