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Love Thyself – A Petrarchan Sonnet


By Genna Torgan

Within my heart, there lay a set of ears, listening with such haste
Waiting for my beating drum to settle into its own rhythm
A hard task in view of there being no algorithm
What lack of love must be replaced
If I hope for my totality to be interlaced
To be passionately three dimensional like a rectangular prism
Not dwelling on doubt, creating a severe schism
I ought not to continue on with this ugly aftertaste
Hence I stand, tracing full lines amidst tilted edges
Upon reaching imperfection, I find transition from pain to pleasure, one romantic flow
Such a presence above brings forth intimacy below
My entirety whole, I embrace independence, much like leaves descending from their hedges
I have myself, need no more, need not continue any show
My heart now races emphatically, the blood in my veins aglow

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