Saturday, January 21, 2012

sonnet thirty seven

it is my secret ritual
to start and end the day
with a vision of you
plaguing my mind -

listless, moving, constant
like the hours that beg
for the slightest trace of
us, and of what we

have made out of this
love forged by fire and faith,
a stirring, arresting, riveting

clarity, the pure and white
sound of your breath and
step, drawing closer and closer to me.

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