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
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