Sonnet II: Unleashed

For this I want, though seldom would disclose;
Or hesitate to vaunt, or to posses.
Regarding friendship’s trial, I might obsess
Beyond consideration, while the throes

Wherewith I drown myself… so rapt, bestows
Determination bound.  But not unless
Desired, desire’s object might profess.
Admired and familiar, this repose

I name: delightful, wickedness. Revere
This touch I frame as art, or I implore,
Or even further; know this would appear
Unleashed, to go where one cannot ignore.
Severe and certain, certainly sincere,
Mine own to this explore, but not endear.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Intro 2: His Form

The human body
Is not an object of shame,
But one of beauty.

Still, so intimate,
That I tend to hesitate,
When I write of it.

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