They are trying to become one creature,
and something will not have it. They are tender
with each other, afraid
their brief, sharp cries will reconcile them to the moment
when they fall away again. So they rub against each other,
their mouths dry, then wet, then dry.
They feel themselves at the center of a powerful
and baffled will. They feel
they are an almost animal
washed up on the shore of a world—
or huddled up against the gate of a garden—
to which they can’t admit they can never be admitted.
Robert Hass
(Source: poetryfoundation.org)
