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Apr 2010
Unkissed, these lips keep speaking soft your name

In whispers, falling faintly from my tongue.

So soft I thought unheard, I calling came

Concordant to my kiss, your heart unsprung.

Weary from the wanting and the wooing

And seeking out a seat to sit as guests,

They sat around the source of my undoing        

And suckled on the love beneath your breast.

Yet β€˜twere that love to offer up its heart,

Surrender to the kiss and not desist,

No longer would I need impart this Art,

No reason for this Sonnet to exist.

Stay the pen: reward me for my patience-

All my hopes and breathless aspirations.
Written by
brian carlin
981
     D Conors and Thomas Thurman
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