Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 2. mind's eye
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Sonnet No. 3
In my mind's eye, you lie within
The snow-white crispness of your drifting bed sheet –
You're spread on your tummy, as I begin
To lift and let the sunshine your body meet.
My hand slides to caress your lower back,
Over skin that makes silk blush too warmly,
While under me, you rouse with feline knack,
And your arms pull me down so wantingly.
Yet, what is art, if not some sort of failure –
For if I can see you, and feel you here,
Can others come to grasp your total allure,
Stretched on poor words only I might hold dear.
But, Hesiod said matter is made to live
Only when Love comes and His sweet blessings give.
Sonnet No. 4
Sometimes I feel like the sand on the seashore,
Soaked and crushed and relentlessly ground down –
To the point where I can bear it no more –
But then, you wash over me, and I'm unbound.
If I could, I would cup your soul gently,
Like a scoop of seawater to hover
Near my head, and pour on me completely –
One infinity to wash the other.
For it is only time that is the wave,
That comes and goes and sadly leaves behind,
The crushed substitute that we make our grave
With the ever finer moments we find.
Not so with Love, for It is the water
That grinds Time to dust, now and forever.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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