1st of 3 in May sonnet series

Contemplation of Emptiness 1

A wish, a dream, a fantasy that will
not ever come to be -- just as white ships
would pass hard shores without the needed skill
to land upon them, my own yearning lips
shall never meet with yours, nor sip the tastes
of your excitement rising as the might
of nude romantic night invokes the hastes
of heedlessness. For that is what the sight
within my thought envisions -- openness
and wantonness, our hungers, flesh, and needs
aligned and then entwined as I express
a pure emphatic nature that concedes
my certitude, the singular extent
that binds my body with your full assent.