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Sonnet #2

First draft.

You are Medusa, for I turn to stone
Whenever you walk by lest I betray
My passion with unseemly cry or moan
Or fall upon my knees to block your way,
And beg -- what dare I beg from such as you,
Who are as far beyond me as the sun?
Obeisance, mute and silent, is your due,
For any other wish can not be won
Nor even spoken. Pity me my fate.
Cut off my head with Perseus’ sword,
I know you have it still.  I see the weight
Dragging at your tongue. Say but the word;
And never more my mortal heart shall beat,
The statue falls, lies broken at your feet.
 

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