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 - 39. heat in the frozen food aisle
.
Sonnet No. 77
You stopped me cold in the supermarket.
You staggered me and I could not go on,
So I stood in the frozen food aislette,
My hand trembling upon my coupon.
You in your warm world far removed from there
Paused to consider how much you love me –
How you wanted your hands on my flesh bare,
And drove me mad for you in slow degree.
So the mundane gives way for the special,
For who in this chill place seeing me stop
Would ascribe an intense love mystical
When they cannot see you in the backdrop.
Warm or cold, your love is always around,
It catches me wherever I am found.
Sonnet No. 78
I open my arms, and you fit like a glove,
Your ear on my pulse, my hand on your head,
For this contact; this silence – this is love –
In spite of all the things we have said.
There is no word for forgiveness that works
Quite as well as the contact of our flesh,
And no absolution that respect shirks
When our lovemaking starts again afresh.
I kneel as I write this, almost in prayer,
Before the page that can sanctify this,
And through the early morning hour, I swear,
As you still sleep in bed, I love you Tony.
Now to return to your side, and renew;
My love's better exampled, through and through.
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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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