here's that sonnet thing i wrote the other day.

it's a sonnet. kinda. i wrote it one night when i couldn't sleep. when i was done, i had miraculously gained the ability to shut my eyes for an extended period of time. therefore, i owe this poem several good hours of sleep and a burdenless chest, at least for a while.

"Objectified?"

She's more precious than a trophy and more priceless than a prize.
I see much more than a medal when I look into her eyes.
If I had the will to worship her, a statue would she be
But a statue like none other when her motion's what I need.
If I gave her once the kneeling grace to hang upon a wall,
Then such a flower seems too fine to tip itself and fall.
I'll plant it once and plant it twice, and give her what she needs
I'll nurture her with loving care and watch her leave her seeds.
But see, I lie when I objectify my truest love;
I fault her fast and and grant her slow the kindness that she drove.
I see in her the whole of what my soul desires to keep,
And still I drown within my love if love can be too deep.
But rush I not, for even now I still have failed to be
The one she loves, so she can see the objects within me.