Sonnet #5: Apotheosis

How chances it that one can fall in love
So often, and so strongly every time?
Love have I rediscovered, breathing of
Your mystical cologne. Oh, you were mine
For several seconds once: you held my soul—
And felt it, too, perhaps; I locked my eyes
To yours, and prayed that I could bind a whole
From separate parts, with everlasting ties.
But how could I succeed? There is no guile,
Much less the worship which does this heart rend,
Behind the warmth of your ingenuous smile;
In me you find a sister or a friend.
What love you bear me is but fellowship;
Would mine were so, or I beyond its grip.

May 24, 1986

Copyright ©1999 by Erica Schultz Yakovetz. All rights reserved.
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