Exactly when did love come to your hearts,
Vesting something one in something twain,
Exchanging simple wholes for complex parts,
Less purely self, more vulnerable to pain?
Yet passion often migrates into need,
Not needing much to crave unfeigned affection;
And so each craving does the other feed,
Need serving need as bond against rejection.
Doubt not such sweet sense can be sustained,
Not by passion, but by will and grace.
In long-lived love there's too much to be gained,
Convectively, to easy unembrace.
Oceans well up richly well within,
Letting go the air that we begin
Avidly to breathe, with passion burning,
So fraught with love no years can hold our yearning.