Sonnet I

Thou art my port within a lover's storm
Of crashing beauty born about in waves
Of moments dancing- driving- art
In surplus passion only you can save.
I would that I might hold you close
Know thee like a mirror of myself
Tracing skin for skin, within a moment's touch
Breathing in the rapture of your breath.
And yet I know nothing save for this:
Your beauty is at once too true- too strong-
Too light for my all-blinded eyes to see
And so I fall and- worshipping- belong
To this, a momentary bliss
When you bent and gifted me your kiss.