Known, Yet Ever New
There is a kind of love which knows no temporal
Disdain, which will remain a purely new sensation,
Seemingly unique each time it is experienced.
Such a love accrues an air of mystery about it—
Neither partner can foresee a time when feeling
Will be ratified, set down in black and white
As surely as a draughtsman's master plan.
Instead, they find themselves eternally arriving
At a gate they've seen before, but cannot place.
Pushing it aside, they enter with a wedded purpose
A garden brightly gleaming, and mingle there
With wonders richly claimed from numb despair.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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