3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

sonnet #1,633

I was so wrong to reckon this love pure
And matchless, and earmark it good as done,
To flatter you, when options felt lots fewer-
How was I meant to gauge a thing begun?
For cursory eye glances rhymes aren't cure,
My dear, these sonnets stacked by gross, by ton,
Each laboured as if last, might long endure,
Each far off scrawls profligate, sweatless won.
Not so long ago, dear, I'd have given
My right arm up for this exquisite rut
This subordinate life diary driven,
The lithe outlines of your knees, arms and butt.
Sweeter lines inspired now, written later,
Greatest love I had for you now greater.

(Chorus)

o later
o after
o post