A soul alone is a remarkable thing;
its essence, its being, its beauty- all fused inside.
But sometimes a lone soul can be lonely,
sometimes the soul may seek the company of its kind.
A soul that yearns for another soul,
a soul that simply knows his body is only a mere capsule-
a physical, solid wall of cells to protect the fragile and oh! so delicate being inside.
A soul that yearns for another soul,
who understands her attraction for the bizarre
and lets her dwell in her melancholy ways.
When two souls find each other,
they delight in each other's company and the similarities of interests and dislikes.
They admire each other's capsules, but no, not with lust.
They trace each other along the outlines of the creases and nooks;
run ever so lightly down the spine on the back and twirl around
the soft curve of the hips.
Two souls that speak stories when their lips meet-
be it silent, a whimper, or a desperate cry-
a fusion of souls who speak much without words.
The souls love each other
and are happy because-
they found a personal version of another.
