They flowed into each other

and intermingled their struggling 

miniature universes of

raw-nerved feeling,

pleading for understanding,

searching for ill-defined experience,

wanting in some way to be more

than what they were, waiting for

something to happen, indifferent

to its contours, 

looking for their place

in a world whose true dimensions

would have hammered them flat

had they known them.

They shot wounded venom at each other

and always embraced afterward, if only by

moments of silent forgiveness.

They celebrated each other's victories

and told each other truths and secrets

that were reserved for the hidden hours

of night.

No one made them angrier

than each other,

but each one realized

in his own unfinished way

the love they both felt

(though never speaking of it)

and they came to understand

that neither of them

would have wanted to take those

first real steps into manhood

(toward a world of other universes)

with anyone else.