Monday, February 27, 2012

sonnet fifty six

we flutter on water like
windswept sails, wrapped
in a breeze, headed to one
particular place

where the sky and the
ocean meets, like blue and
purple flowers that defined
an afternoon of smiles,

i hold your hand and
never cease to dream the
truth with you - that our

love would not even come
close to a sunrise or a
sunset - it is its own beauty.

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