Strangers to the touch: he was fast to dive into the waves that were indeed his briny deep. She, whom took his complexion into the trench that is her, also took the senile artistry that was he, recklessly. Strangers to the act: he took the palm of his over-dramatized antagonist of his own life and just pressed it. She caressed the thought of it, yet still arose to find her most fragile protagonist grazing his head on the adolescent but corrupt land line that made up as her thighs.
Strangers they must be, though, strangers whom have found need in the halves that have halves in half.