Love says, “No one meshes souls as I;
Without me there are just loose strands—so love
Me first,” she presses, eyeing me and you.

I lay myself then on her lap of love,
Even as I’m stretching toward you; I
Soon find myself, perforce, abreast with you.

Next, you wrap around me, sidelining Love;
Yet in so clasping me, it happens you
Alight upon her right, just as had I.

Let nothing come between my Love and you—
Not even I! She knits us closer. Love
Shows up the symmetry of you and I,

And yet I’m drawn to her, and thus to you
Again, now, from a different view. Still, I
Cannot escape our common thread—this Love—

And neither can you; ever-freshly I
Await your sweet return—you, only you,
And yet you do not come except for Love.

She moves again: I know there is no I
Nor you; there’s only she, full center—Love
Enjoining me to seek her joy in you.