Eros is an issue of boundaries.
He exists because certain boundaries do.

In the interval between reach and grasp,
between glance and counter-glance,
between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too,’
the absent presence of desire comes alive.

But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you
are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros:
the boundary of flesh and self between you and me.

And it is only, suddenly,
at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary,
I realise I never can.