There is a frontier-line in human closeness
That life and passion cannot violate–
Though in silence mouth to mouth be soldered
And passionate devotion cleave the heart.
Here friendship, too, is powerless, and yours
Of that sublime and fiery happiness
When the free soul has broken clear
From the slow languor of voluptuousness.
Those striving towards it are demented, and
If the line seem close enough to broach–
Stricken with sadness…Now you understand
Why my heart does not beat beneath your touch.
–Anna Akhmatova, 1915