Just another sonnet

Just whipped off this sonnet the other day.

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endeared and speared

I'm sure she will forget me soon, for she
is quite accustomed to the touch and talk
that happens in the dimness when we see
and feel and find what normally we stalk

but never catch! Within the depth of my
captivity I still am free to hold --
for all the minutes given me -- her si-
lent treasures, and adore them, as she's sold

me on their own desirability.
And in our shared transaction, first I told
and then I showed my sensibility,
a sworn expression of the truth, the gold-

en standard of complacency, and she
then realized that all I was was me.