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sonnet 1

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* * *
Thy lover, thy urge the untamable
becomes the one who urns to be tamed
when the curvature seems too unable
to bring back the ever burning flame.
The sin in your secret's eyes
tucked away into the folds of your heart
like a watch, hidden in a pocket of lies
where it should have from the start,
surfacing a feeling so strong like lust
with a mixture of heat and desire
rolled into a sweet assuriing mist
that puts out your heart-filled fire.
The heat of the moment passion, passes
like wind, blowing through lover's ashes
* * *