An Egg White

I am far from you in one bowl, you far from me in one bowl. We turn, we whirl, far from each other, under the whisk. My cry and lament at the pain of parting whirl through the air: I call you with every turn; I call so, I want so, that my desire brings your flowing wave to the heart of my bowl, you pour into me... More than ever, unveiled, with all your fervor and nectar, pure mingling: this sweetness...