In the Golden Age,
Love is consummated
With just a look.

I look at you,
You look at me…
Cupid’s arrows fire—

And pure golden light,
Electric sweetness
Flows between
Our shining eyes

We all pretend; some act it well…
We know what’s going on.
But can you claim you broke the spell—
the looking glass response?

For how we think, the words we say
are what our peers expect;