Sonnet 1
Sonnet 1
Thou makest my day a true insightful day,
My night a genuine night of the Star.
If thine love would come to rest, I shall die;
No day nor night would I survive afar.
Fact of this thou knowest with thine heart's blood;
No man can last to breathe without love's air.
If this knowledge thy brain has understood,
Know that my rotten lungs need thine scent of hair;
And mine sickly heart thine touch of woman's hand.
Like rain, dost thou water my organs of ill love.
Worth of thine soul, I now do understand;
Parted from it, I can not look above.
A Love once insignificant kills me;
Shall not I lose thee for eternity.
Love & Trust,
B.B.
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