a poem for today, 13 May 2012

a poem for today, 13 May 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of eight sentences and its image]
The ground is ready.
You want in on this.
I am accustoming myself to regarding every sexual act as a process in which four individuals are involved.
I said I'd never do it, but clearly I'm a dirty liar.
It’s a hall of mirrors.
Love me.
Sex is the stumbling block of sense.
The specificity of the language is sometimes necessary because quite often the subjects being discussed are notoriously complicated, frighteningly dangerous and self-revelatory.

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