Terpsichore, the muse for Dance–cover yourself, my dear.

The mind lays out the world in blocks, and the hushed blood waits for revenge.

John Gardner, in Grendel

Love and war, equally rude, cutting in front of our line of thought, a sweet delete of the entire text of life.

Kris Kosaka, Beyond the Confusions of Tongues

SOS…. SOS….SOS….  I strive to be wise, just end up cracked!  Only another sonnet can capture the irony!!

I wait. His breathing paints the dark; I sigh

your name because I can. All that I can not

blaze with the stars, glittering like the lies

that illuminate each day. I can not

but weep. How weary, stale, and flat the night

for we with shadow dreams. Darkness rips from me

the weapons that wield power in the light:

shining duty, honor and integrity

melt to black. Can-nots swirl, I can not tame

this foolish love – if I dare to seize the day

would you dare too, towards what I dare not name?

I climb upon the stars, I feel my way

across the sky into your room. Too late!

The sun alights my shadowed heart. I wait.

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