Love

A story of love in a trio of English sonnets.

 

 I.

The moonlight bluntly coats the shaded road

In streaks of stark white, ink black, cloudy grey.

Blind, I trod forward to carry my load;

Pictures swarm about my skull, scenes of day.

The tundra, bare of anywhere to latch,

Shimmers and sounds of the ice provided,

But, when I hear voices I know, I hatch.

A laugh begins to chortle, unguided.

As a rose glow consumes our faces,

I begin to dream of a harsh beauty,

A clean perfection without erases.

Encaged, I toast in the heat of duty.

Still, my senses ignite, pleading for more.

Riding within reverie, we explore.

 

 II.

A sheen of amber passes by your eye

As if I were stuck there, frozen by glue.

Sparks alight mine, a tremble through the dry.

Our gazes start to match, coated in blue.

A smile leads across our chasm, an exchange.

The birds trill a melody, lifelong.

I take the leap. You double me. How strange.

We fall together, enveloped in song.

As the velocity caves, I wave.

My stomach plummets, burning, through the floor,

And there is no one left but you to save.

You grasp my hand and we soar through the door.

Crystals depict the dawning sky aloft,

But I'd never have thought it'd be so soft.

 

III.

A butterfly flits by, riding its wind.

With sunlight, it catches our eyes in web,

But a tingling gasp returns us our mind.

My chest fills of rock; our stream starts to ebb.

Outside of our backyard, though, a sultry

Scent wafts through the trees as a knock sounds up

Front. You wish to see. I say blasphemy.

Together we disclose; both are there, setup

To implode, to drown both our chests in red,

But, really, they were always there, scars

Too deep to heal with apologies said,

Experiments too blatant for our stars.

We forgive or fall apart. We hold form

Or we fold. We act in love or in storm.