In whispers hushed, we ponder distance wide,  
Yet what of closeness, pressing ever near?  
In spaces shared, our hearts may clash and chide,  
And breast feels heavy when its end is clear.  

Too much togetherness can stifle breath,  
Each moment tangled, bodies pressed too tight;  
Ants march on pins, a dance that hints of death,  
As love’s own gaze reveals a troubled plight.  

Yet through this fray, our hearts remain in tune,  
For true affection thrives in varied ways;  
Be it in distance or the heat of noon,  
Love finds its path, through nights and endless days.  

So whether far or close, let spirits soar,  
For love, unbounded, seeks to know us more.