Secret Sonnet #13

Darling, let me rest my rancor for now,
And praise my stone cold inamorato -
It feels so good to wallow and allow
The honey to voluptuously flow:
My dear precious man at once so gentle
And yet so stern, so silent and so hard,
So laissez-faire and temperamental
So lucky in devotion, so ill-starred.
Your thick silky hair, your silly sweet face
Your striking temporal deficiency,
Your criss-crossed forehead, your animal grace,
Your offset eye, your vocal quality.
No one would say you are beautiful yet
I prefer your smile to all the Met.

The Met will be a 20 minute walk from my new apartment.