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April 29, 2006
Blog Archive
About Me
Euphoria
it’s starting.
my stubborn heart is swelling with excitement
at the remembrance of your words.
butterflies frantically fluttering throughout my form…
seeking to escape the prison I hold them in.
elation is growing…intensifying
within the confines of my resented body…
traveling to it’s farthest limits…
making my fingers numb and tingly
at the mere thought of touching you.
anticipation escalating with every passing second…
until I finally find solace
in your presence.
Sonnet 16 by Shakespeare
Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove; Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on temptests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not times's fool though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
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