A Sonnet In Return
Tonight you offered me two precious gifts:
Your sonnet and your passion, each a part
Of you others neither know nor have missed,
Content with their safe places in your heart.
Still, they are dear to you, and they are real
In all the ways our lives will not allow.
And yet I wonder how they fail to feel
This fierce desire that overwhelms you now.
You have made of me a lover of words,
Writing the only life and love of you
I may have. And in my words you have heard
The only passion you know to be true.
Here is where we are both revealed and real,
Deep in desire, nothing left to conceal.
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2012-06-06 at 16:58
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