If There Are Times.

 If there are times

that I just rest my gaze upon your face,

 though not, I hope, in any fatuous way,

and, sensing an observer,

as women uncannily can,

you look to learn what I might seek,

 and my eyes but calmly meet your own,

and I say nothing, offer no excuse,

 it might well be that, once again,

I am considering the evidence

that no amount of licence or indulgence,

of raving energetic intimacy,

 can relieve me of our separateness.