I have not failed you yet, friends. I was very distracted today but I remembered about half an hour ago that I promised you a sonnet. For reasons related to my distraction today, it’s about sex. Fortunately, I’m pretty sure more than half of Shakespeare’s sonnets were about sex, so apparently that’s a laudable and even classic topic for a sonnet.
It feels explosive laying next to you
A current arcs between your moving lips
Between my own I trap your fingertips
And hold my breath, the dark electron blue.
Your tongue in tatters, tell me something true:
In rhythm with our four rotating hips
I kiss your heart and taste the beats it skips;
this tune we’re playing feels like something new.
Your body arches, taut like power lines
The wind runs high and hot before the storm
The shadows underneath your skin are warm,
Enfolding you like tentacles and vines.
Tornado chaser of a different form,
I catalogue your cries like weather signs.