Sonnet 23 – Slave to a Kiss
How mystical your kiss, and how divine!
Your lips are mages, blessed with angel flair
to do their sweet and wistful work on mine
and render me immobile and impaired!
Despite my duty, conscience, or judgment
which plead with me to think of better things
or tasks I should be at while time is spent
entangled and entranced in your trappings,
I find that I have lost my self-control.
No trick I try may free me when you place
your cheek to mine, your breath warm on my face,
and press your supple lips to me; and so,
I stay a hopeless slave to love’s sure sign,
incompetent in body and in mind.
Sonnet 22
Today is set aside for our good-byes—
to friends, to teachers, even to this place
(no one returns)—and also for our lies,
each wrapped and given with an eager face.
We make such empty promises as, “Hey,
I’ll see you all this summer!” and “Let’s keep
in touch,” and “Don’t forget to call, okay?”
An accident, but still a travesty.
But then, there’s you. They thought we couldn’t last,
but here we are, together for this long,
and though we leave here, never to come back,
we’ve planned one destination all along.
“So long” to friends, “Farewell” to knowledge rooms,
but to my love, I say, “I’ll see you soon.”
