Today I laid me down beside my dear,
And scanned the beauty of his sleeping face:
I knew him mine, not separate, but near-
We two alone within a secret place.
I broken was – with heart drained dry of tears
And wished to be made whole, a being complete,
For loss had whipped me through the passing years,
And there were marks of chains upon my feet.
Then timidly, I touched both cheek and hand-
Nay, breathed the very intake of his breast,
And turned to him that he might understand
The tumult to be stilled – the need for rest.
For love knows there is nothing more than this-
The merging of two souls within a kiss.
Paula Fitzgerald, 1941