Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What Happens?

When thy hand touches mine, through all the mesh
  Of intricate and interlacèd veins
  Shoot swift delights that border on keen pains:
Flesh thrills to thrilling flesh.
 
When in thine eager eyes I look to find
  A comrade to my thought, thy ready brain
  Delves down and makes its inmost meaning plain:
Mind answers unto mind.
 
When hands and eyes are hid by seas that roll
  Wide wastes between us, still so near thou art
  I count the very pulses of thy heart:
Soul speaketh unto soul.
 
So every law, or human or divine,
In heart and brain and spirit makes thee mine.
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