I'm glad that one of us was strong, at least,

to say the dreaded "No!" to throbbing lust.

We could have been digested by the beast

that gorges on the oneness of our trust.

Instead, we went our separate ways again,

to tinker with the engines of our fate;

to sputter down the road of life in pain

that tells us how much longer we must wait.

So who am I, and what am I to be

when passions ambush unsuspecting hearts?

We crave the darkness of our ecstasy,

but light keeps shining on our maps and charts.

We get where we are going, though, of course.

In death alone, we love without remorse.

from "Post-Existential Sonnets," Folio I
by Tom Mellett, Austin, Texas, 1987

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