Aching

I do apologize. Our feelings must
Have failed. Our expectations of delight
Seem to have vanished, slipped off in the night
We spent together. Aching with mistrust,
And with that solemn, predatory lust,
We wished each other well, as well we might,
And crawled through passionate but somehow slight
Love, all the trappings and the tricks of dust.

The combination, terror and despair
(Two useful, if not quite enchanting, traits),
With which we have impressed our love affair,
Will also serve (who only stands and waits?)
To join our spirits, though we cannot bear
The undermining of our separate states.

Our Hearts, part 19