"butterfly's pen": the sonnet to Yue

[butterflydreaming]

(butterfly’s pen)

His wingéd beauty is not mine to own,

Nor did his being spring from my pale dreams,

Yet in my dreams, how often he has flown,

This love of mine who is not as he seems.

Velvet his eyes, of changing purple hue --

Ice cold, to chill a deeply burning grief --

Luminous eyes, of silver-flashing-blue,

Reveal a hidden heart without relief.

My pen belongs to him, to heal his soul,

His story to be told in my weak voice;

To fill this world with him has been my goal;

To weave my dreams for him has been my choice.

For thinking of him, only, my heart skips

Imagining the texture of his lips.

~*~

Author’s Note: Another sonnet.  Yes, I am very much a Yue fangirl.  This is why I write.  If you read my stories, you will find that I do indeed imagine the texture of Yue’s lips (like iris petals: “Clow Stories, Kiss”) and I believe him to be grieving deeply for Clow (“Take Comfort”).  He is not mine; I am reminded every time by the required disclaimer.  But most of my stories on ff.net are Yue stories, because my pen does truly belong to him.

~butterflydreaming