A Sonnet For Cesar Poem by Mikhail Conrad

A gentle face, that mark'd my heart profound-
should hands of mine caress your bony cheek;
A regal visage I would like have crowned,
And I'd traverse your frail and wight physique-
For I'd lick dry your sacred strong demesne.
Your eyes do pore like rain, it chills quite fine;
My lips of liquid drench, could not abstain,
We'd kiss with sweet delight, our souls align!
The orange warmth and measure glowing skin,
and sweeter length of your so lovely bones,
to jaunty widths that is your soul, therein-
and flesh to flesh, I'd love with love- with moans.
And oh, if you were mine, you'd be my rose-
And oh, if we could kiss, I'd stop this prose.