We are branded immiscible;
the oil and water,
of our caste fabric.
Darkness becomes our sanctuary
and stealth is second nature.
We meet in planned confusion
with subtle affection gestures.
We find the forbidden corners
aware of dangerous consequences
both internal and external
mixing in swirl sounds and smells.

Tonight, beyond the fear of severance,
we board the rusted freighter
hand in hand,
where far beyond
the alchemists practice freely.