A man and a woman sit near each other, and they
do not long at this moment to be older, or
younger, nor born in any other nation, or time, or
place.
They are content to be where they are, talking or
not talking. Their breaths together feed someone
whom we do not know.
The man sees the way his fingers move; he sees
her hands close around a book she hands to him.
They obey a third body they have in common.
They have made a promise to love that body.
Age may come, parting may come, death will
come.
A man and woman sit near each other; as they
breathe they feed someone we do not know,
someone we know of, whom we have never seen.
Robert Bly
