In our separate lives
We unite
Not merely at meal-times
Or in bed in the illumined night.
Love lives on love and thrives
As it must indeed
On difference. Indifference
Is the prerogative of the dead.
Let’s look to the now, looking
Trustingly ahead
For we are two, yet one,
The moon being complementary
To the sun.
Which precedence has moon, has sun?
The heavens mystery
Is not for mortal woman or for man.
We only know what we have always known,
That without love we live alone.
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