Saturday, June 8, 2013

Summer Sonnet 14: Tropical Depression

Lovely cool rain falls on my burnt red face
washing away ancient formalities
Pride leaves the table and makes room for grace 
my world has such harsh penalties.

I punish myself more than reward
my days with love both carnal and divine
I drown myself with that weighty accord
so lift up my lips and drink the storm's wine.

Lullabies tap pirouettes on windows
as the gray wet slur bubbles and moans
laying on the couch without my clothes
I daydream against the pittering tone.

I had so much to say, express and do
yet here I lay crying at the silver hue.

- By Aurin Squire

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