our voices know each other in a tongue
we barely understand words follow words
through turns of everyday what we have done
what we have said to whom things we have heard
ephemeral meanings floated on a stream
like paper galleys these the stuff of sense
of caveats when in a doubting time
we question why and find the answer less
than reason still an echo of the sound
prevails an intertwining of your tone
and mine your cadences my counterpoint
our rise and fall a sweeter music than
we care to name is ours our voices have
learned to transcend the dull taboos of love
