for w & t with hope they never join the cynics

[joel]

Their kisses: frequent, gentle and afraid
of insults unintended and with trust
the present subject of their souls adored—
and more, enjoyed— these advent moments of
emotive exploration and of bliss’
expression in this new-found stead of speech—
their earliest of lifetime’s kisses streamed
in cautious wonder while their instincts dreamed
of luminous adventures that might reach
spelunking depths of closeness more than this,
despite such intimate advancements; love
like dandelion windswept weeds had soared
on each exhilarated breath they’d thrust
upon their souls by motives smiled and staid.