Xander sprawled back against Spike’s chest, idly rubbing circles on his right hip, and finished the story.
Spike looked thoughtful. “So… does this count as bestiality? That’d be new.”
Xander laughed nervously.
Spike wrapped his arms around Xander’s waist. “Then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life’s not a paragraph. And death, I think, is no parenthesis.”
“Then… what?” Xander twisted around to stare at Spike.
“’S a poem. Famous American poet. Did you ever pay attention in school?”
“You’re quoting me poetry? Okay, where’s the real Spike?”
Spike sighed. “Let me tell you a story…”
It's from 'since feeling is first' by e.e. cummings. Original does not have the punctuation.