3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

sonnet #1,623

Contrarian, as I've got her, bag in box,
She'll take a tangent line and twist a trait,
Her arguments plumb then ameliorate
Our moods conversed - if moved by me, she mocks.
I loved her style, her knee high stocking socks,
The backless blouses beads and eyes hold straight,
The retro chic of french berets not late,
Yet when I praised, she said, rough as rocks.
And if I say how sad she looks, she'll smile,
And say, no, so far off the simple truth,
And then dispatch to me her giggling guile,
Or punch my shoulder softly, cloying, uncouth.
She warms too close or far off, winks a blink,
I'll puzzle her out presently, I'd think.

(Chorus)

o blink
o flutter
o tremor