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11/16/01 05:29 PM: Sonnet
Uh, hi. I am well, just not motivated to post stuff lately. You probably didn’t even notice. In lieu of hard-hitting political insight, I give you a sonnet:
That Which You Might Guess but I Can Never Say
I want to run my fingers through your hair.
It’s short; it’s pink; it draws my eyes to you.
Those locks, they amplify a face so fair.
They always make me stop to ask what’s new.
To hold you in my arms all day I would
Abandon all I hold as close and dear.
Should our lips touch but once I think I should
Care naught for worldly things at all this year.
Alas, I think it was not meant to be.
You do not seem to share the thoughts I think.
Your heart, in truth, it beats, but not for me.
For wondrous thoughts I rose, but now I sink.
And yet, to know you is a gift more true
Than it would be were you to say I do.
