There was in the summer an unwritten love -
In the soft already heat of morning,
In the dry cadences of evening,
At the last tinge of horizon.

But in-between
We sweated our ways through questionnaires
And the management of bystanders,
Dull physical contrivances.

Thought we were forbidden from locking lips
Our before love - clumsy, strictured, splinted, -
Was wreathed in garlands of fire,
Mounted on pins, photographed and reprinted

And meanwhile, while we weren't touching,
The Holy Spirit taught us convulsions.