The Ecstasy
Two lovers sit all day on a violet bank with their hands cemented and their eyes threaded on a double string, saying nothing, while their souls step outside the bodies and hang negotiating in the air between them. What the souls work out is that each was a mixture needing the other, and that the new soul made of both is proof against change. Then the argument turns and does the thing it was built for: the bodies are not dross but the alloy, and love must descend to them or it never gets said at all.
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Closest analogues
- 76% · 9 shared
- 76% · 9 shared
- 76% · 9 shared
- 76% · 9 shared
- 73% · 10 shared
- 71% · 10 shared