Come Let my Hands Find Place to Gather In

(sonnet)

Come let my hands find place to gather in
The motion that can lead us both to dance.
To find in rhythmic gait, that space within
And glide our states in metered circumstance.

I find in you those states of garnered charms,
That race my senses forth to their resolve.
That raise in you that storm of sweet alarm,
Its rush of absolution, both dissolve.

In closeness’ grip, that serves to drive us on,
And find in each the grapple of our flight,
That raptures in its course our rushing’s drawn,
And courses through our rush to our delight.

And as our motions gain to find their peak
Let both our coursings find the rush they seek.