Sonnet

How do I love thee - shall I count the ways?
For each bruise is your rose and
Your fists your beribboned presents that
Once unwrapped leave spider-marks on my skin
Blood-scratched, bruise-slapped love
Does that turn you on?

But Darling I love you and it's
Only when you fight, argue, smile
That I leave my abacus of love gifts

How do I love thee - let me count the ways?
Your love poems engraved on my arms
My mind your blank pad to paint
Your twisted mindscapes on and
Sculpt the threads of personality
To dance to your vile breeze and
Jingle-Jangle like bones on your shrine.
Do I, she-image, turn you on?

But darling, I love you and its
In your mind, this battle
I just want you to be yourself in
My picture-scape, in my colours.

How do I love thee - let me count the ways?
You write your poems in kisses,
Understate your pain in hugs for me
When I go back in my picture-land
Your love, so soft, so calm
To please your desire, for me, for you.

But darling, your love is bigger
Stronger, warmer than my soul
Does your time wait for me to grow?
Or must we run to our unhappy destiny
Faster, faster, until we end
Bloodied as before?
Shattered as our past-fragment lives.

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submissions always welcome, encouraged, and recieved with happiness. mail me directly.

embies' asarian poetry archives / she's anon-4552@anon.twwells.com / last revised december 22, 1996