Monday, February 13, 2012

sonnet fifty one

i trace your smile on
this paper like it is sepia,
a vague, arresting memory
that cannot be denied

and i let go of defying
the beginning we have found,
the end we will never suffer,
as i only know how it is to

exist now, in this moment,
in this time scorched and
molded by the heat of

your eyes staring into
the midnight's caress,
never to leave your side.

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