Sonnet 2,218


His arms my home, his heart is my new bed;
He takes me to an undiscovered place;
Where sits my love and soul, my heart and head;
And never is this passion less than great.
His kiss it lingers soft and true, and pure;
He takes his lips and presses them to mine;
A love that’s unsurpassed and new and raw;
And one to transcend distance, space, and time.
His woman now, my heart holds a new tune;
I take a vow and swear myself to him;
If he be gone, I’d follow very soon;
For life and lives are waiting to begin.

This can’t be hid nor swept beneath a rug;
If truth be told, I’m using him for love.

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