Her Name Upon The Strand

Somewhere, tonight, two strangers. If not tonight, the next few nights. His low moan is like his voice on the phone, only more manly. Her ungentle touch. Love sprouts? Is this really love? What they do not know they could not tell us. And what they could not tell startles little.
Afterwards, all was peaceful. And 'love' was not mentioned.

Afterwards, 'love' was not mentioned. And all was peaceful.