Sonnet #8

“She’s perfect,” I guessed.  And, I was right.
Nothing better than sweet, sordid hearts.
No child on the way.  We will remain smart.
During the Red Fall, we explore bliss all night.
There’s nothing better than all too sweet
nicety
Flowing throughout my veins like a real drug.
Misgiving Confessions make for the best
hugs.
Free beautiful ambassadors of what is neat.
Distinguishable whispers of one day love
Conform to my boy-ish figure: electric.
Simply put, I finally feel somewhere
Because I’ve found someone whom care
Hasn’t forgotten.
“Our fits and tantrums sound soft and eclectic.”
We bet our asses and laid on the altar.
Here’s to us, together, without falter.

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