Classic Poem

They say they are one flesh:
They are two nations.
They cannot mix nor mesh:
Their conjugations
Are cries from star to star.
They would commingle,
They couple far and far—
Still they are single.

With arms and hungry hands
They cling together,
They strain at bars and bands,
They tug at tether,

Still there are walls between,
Still space divides them,
Still are themselves unseen,
Still distance hides them.