sonnet
My tongue is silken, but my manners rough
My heart is a barbarian at the gate
In spite of all its schooling. Fair enough -
It knows too much that lesser brand of hate
Called by indifference. Lady, know you how
You do me signal honor with your smile;
Your touch and kiss have shattered all the stone
That fortified my soul this little while.
Shivering, awestruck, I am wracked in turn
By waves of lust and love and fear, head bowed:
The perfect faith of your approach has burned
Its incandescent sigil on my brow,
A beacon so effulgent I eclipse
All glories save your name upon my lips.
poetry
prose
home