If each kiss I give you, carves a sonnet
Upon your skin, will stars spill from your eyes?
And would your mind return to muse upon it,
As you gaze up and see the starless skies?
If each time I touch you the earth shivers,
Can I instill in you the calm you seek?
If the quaking movement makes you quiver
Will you shake until you cannot speak?
If we can laugh together in exchanges,
Which seem, to others, never to make sense:
Does the lack of meaning still estrange us,
Until, through love, we find our recompense?
And if you have answers I am missing,
Please carve out more sonnets while I’m kissing.