Tuesday, May 27, 2008

To Which I Defer

Passion’s delicate twist
some placed, disquiet
in her heart’s content

That acquiescent draught called love
Fraught with yes, palm held to my face
In annoyance, lust, not yet!
To wait, absentee ballots
never sent by never wills

To which I defer

Perhaps gentle abiding love

Not thrust of muscle unto her
Jest as speech does not replace
a passion never touched.

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