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 - 9. "Fear is a blind thing..."
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Sonnet No. 17
I love every aspect of you. Your mind
Is like a faceted jewel in sunlight
That no matter which way I twist I find
Refracted rainbows, crystal clear, and bright.
Then I consider your body, and how
My hands cup you in richness like the Earth –
Like I scoop sensual soil right now –
As dark and brooding as we were at birth.
And so I am brought to your soul, for it
Is no captive to light, or dirt, or time –
For as long on the world as we may sit –
It will be my model of the sublime.
Every day they mix anew and then form,
Love as the element I can transform.
Sonnet No. 18
Fear is a blind thing – hands before the face –
Black velvet rippling through a starless night;
Which way up; which way to a state of grace –
How dependent we grow upon our sight.
Yet sometimes I think worry is a gift,
Given to sharpen joy to a focus,
So that even from the darkness we lift
Ourselves with our weak hands from the abyss.
I know you have fears that I long to calm,
And they call out to me in clarity,
Like David's voice entreating God by psalm,
To end black nights of their austerity.
So reach out your hand to me, dear boy,
And I'll lead you where we can live in joy.
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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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