How little in me is not touched by you!
A friendship is a light that fills the heart,
Painting with its gold each darkened hue,
Providing warmth to each sequestered part.
You are the mirror of my better self,
Verifier of the best in me,
A bridge across the unsuspected gulf
Lodged between what can and ought to be.
Expectations can be wings, not bars,
Necessary to sustain our flight.
The faith of friends in us is wholly ours,
Incoming to uplift us to its height.
No soul can see itself, but must depend,
Each on each, upon a trusted friend.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

PASSING stranger! you do not know
How longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking,
Or she I was seeking,
(It comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely
Lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other,
Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me,
Were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become
Not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes,
Face, flesh, as we pass,
You take of my beard, breast, hands,
in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you
When I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Walt Whitman