Climb into the basket of my heart
In such a place, there is no want for room
My soils root thee, that thou cannot depart
Thou shalt be my world, my heart thy cocoon;
In the murky webs of that visceral tomb
Thou may tunnel thyself, thy burrs, in deep
And while there, some movement will cause me to swoon
As thy incumbered form shifts in dove sleep.
Yes, jump thee into my den of coral
Where my fractured sea shall harm thee not;
For what bulbs be drowned in scent of laurel
Shall make their novel home in my grot.
If thou cared to dip thy fingers there
They would bring back a pearl as rare.
A/N: my obscure little attempt at a Shakespearean sonnet. Dedicated to my hopeless romantic, the person whom I love the most--- yes. Love. It is only to this person that I may utter that word without an iota of false intent.