Thursday, June 5, 2008

first sonnet: circa 2002

Blood circles round my heart, making it tight.
Forgetting to breathe, I suck deep for air.
Images of you crowd and blind my sight.
I like to pretend I am with you there,

But conjuring you can't erase these fears.
So this is to you, the one out of reach,
Though it will never sound in your ears,
I'll keep it here inside, my little speech.

You are the one whom I think of at night.
You fill me up like a rush-roaring wave.
You'd make everything more than alright.
For you this first kiss of mine I would save.

But these things of you I never could speak,
So words rest here for now; I am too weak.

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