Linee parallele

What's the immaterial substance 
That envelopes two, 
That one perceives as hunger 
And the other as food.
I wake in tangeled covers, 
To a sash of snow, 
You dream in a cartoon garden, 
I could never know. 
Innocent imitation, you are cast in gold, 
Your image a compensation for me to hold.
Parallel lines, move so fast, 
Toward the same point, 
Infinity is as near as it is far