A Sonnet To Deana
I thought the memory of you was gone, I thought it buried underneath the years. But now it rises, bright as dawn, And I remember you, and tears.
Your tears were falling like the rain, You were the storms and roses of spring. My memories of you are not only of pain; Your praises until the end of time I shall sing.
I had to break the ties; I had no choice... Retreated inside, and left you behind. Yet still I hear the echo of your voice, Found rain and wind and roses in my mind.
You told me that you loved me, and you cried. I said I had no feelings. And I lied.
Written 1986
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An Empty Sonnet
My father gave no word of love to me. My mother practiced laudable restraint. My childhood lessons, quite logically, Prepared me to despise a loving taint.
When you came, I saw that you Would not let logic over love prevail. With your heart, big enough for two, You tried, and for love, you did not fail.
Human tormentors do not understand: Acknowledgement of feeling causes pain, While the cruelly subvert defenses I have planned Plot to anesthetize my watchful brain.
What will they find when I am ripped apart? "I love you, Gloria," written on my heart.
Written 1987
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