Day 9 (2)

 Day 9


What I think of love is this is this, still -

it is a sonnet, constrained by fourteen lines

and sets of lines within it, the rules

which I keep breaking , not believing in them,

though I do believe in love, this contradiction

though I do believe in contradiction,love.

What I think of love is this, now -

it is a stream of consciousness

like thought itself, I think we love

subconscious, because I've tried to 

make it sonnets, break and tame the rhyme

when it just wants to fly . And all my

metaphors are nonsense and are like wonder,

religious yet ridiculous, in the face of love.

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