Oh Absent-Minded Kiss! (Plutonic Sonnets 154)

Oh absent-minded kiss! Is couple found,

That’s coupled been more than a little while,

That does not know your feckless little sound,

Or recognize your distant, vacant smile?

You’re prone to strike, or so it seems to me,

When starts or ends the ordinary day;

And so, to many, habit seems to be

A hungry worm that eats true love away.

And yet sweet ways there be that lovers find,

And travel o’er and o’er but cannot name;

They leave what’s ordinary far behind,

By same old roads that seem not twice the same.

I swear by all below and all above: