Pawns of Love

Across my bubbly cheeks your thoughts were warm like an arid wind, being exhaled out of youthful necessity from the core of Mother Earth And all days’ aches gone into a fourteen lines of gold as the morning rises up But then-- it seemed, as if you were eager to hear the sound of deafening silence when I offered you my apple heart And why was I so eager to share the paradigm of my being when I felt that you were not ready to become my concluding couplet of a Shakespearean sonnet