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Gabriel K Feb 2016
Let me not to the marriage of Katie
Hellkvist and me admit impediments
e.g. her boyfriend it’s complicatey
a smug **** wannabe, irrelevant

to me no he is immaterial
I want you so bad I would roast you *****
you’re a special spirit ethereal
I gotta chubby thinking about it

thy cherry lips and smudged eye make-up like
that Goth guy in The Cure Nick Cave maybe
sturdy face infectious laugh raven eyen
like Whitney truth I Will Always Love thee

If this be false and upon me prov’d
I never Facebook stalked nor ever lov’d
Cara McKee Jan 2015
His look is wolflike; hunter in the dark.
“You come with me,” he said, “don't be a wife.”
He lifts his leathers, ready to depart:
“You come with me, and leave your boring life.
“Come ride with me, and see the edge of doom.”
The edge? I follow him where he would go.
And gentle him, and watch his glamour bloom.
I raise him up. A man whom all would know.
And I, remaining there, upon the edge,
Find I have, unbeknownst, become a wife.
And while he wins high praise upon the ledge,
I live my unremarkable own life.
And yet I have seen o'er the edge of doom,
and bear remembrance here within my womb.
Inspired by Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. My first attempt at iambic pentameter and sonnets. This won me a competition!

— The End —