Sunday, December 7, 2014

A contemplative sonnet for December

if my eyes beheld what he has held

I know a woman (though not well); to say
she is spectacular does not express
her magnitude, and it does not convey
the span of her totality. Her dress
is often not extravagant, though she
can be supremely elegant -- proclaim-
ing her begins and ends with beauty, free
of what society requires, the fame
she has accrued for wearing nothing, true
and basic and fantastic. So I wish
that I could lurk behind the eyes that view
her grace as she undresses, the delic-
iousness that is her normal, naked state;
his fortune shall not ever be my fate.

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