On the bed of the hidden room

On the bed of the hidden room lay two people,
their hands not touching,
their breath not merging,
a sword dividing.
Their eyes waited
for the doors
to open and allow them to love.

But when the doors did open and light pierced inside,
they crawled blindly under the bed,
gasping for the darkness.

And since there was no sword here,
they had to wait
with their backs turned.