it was, and is, very much a now, voyager love,

deep and ill-fated. years pass without hope

until a simmering, resigned acceptance proves to be

the only survivable way they can live their separate lives.

love as unrelenting as this carves new pathways,

if one way fails, another is channeled. so it was, so it is.

the rare union brings a scorching primacy,

unsettles to the core, reaffirms that much more

the certainty of their love, but rules apply. there is

an embrace, no more. it must suffice, it must say all

and be all, the triad of their sensuality pressed as one

for as long as their rationalized sense of propriety fails them,

and that much longer—searing, imprinting. then,

another year, or set of years, pass. so it was, so it is.