Скачать или смотреть "Spectrum Shift", by Tamsin Sinclair

Something completely different this Saturday: a beautiful, contemporary sonnet.

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The twisted, smeared androgyny of me,
made colorful by years of wont to hide;
Hands, spotted with the paint that hasn't dried
and dancing in their lithe telemetry--
How can these two so closely bonded be?
That all of you can linger still beside,
and keep me to your pattern and your guide,
as though your chastest kiss were liberty--
Oh, did you know what your indifference wrought?
It might be more than you--or he--had thought.
A blue-green cool where passion once held sway
Is all my painted hands can offer now:
the chill of coated fingers on his brow,
and vestiges of warmth within decay.