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Sonnet XVII

I run away from all those happy things
That once had brought us pleasure, that rare gift
Of fun we’d shared before the fights. And if
I still receive your love, at least it brings

Less agony that way. But carefree flings,
Like tourneys, games, and plays, now bore me stiff,
Or make me anxious when I get a whiff
Of all that’s waiting for me in the wings.

As long as I keep feeding my desire,
I only ask that fate free us from pain.
But then cross words will surface once again.

So, if I truly want to free your star,
And bring you peace, I must hold back my fire,
And make a home apart from where you are.

© 2000 Alice Park

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