Sonnet XVII

(for Karen Lynn and Mark)

Nor kiss but any one of three, a love

That comes and goes and shows to us the heights

Of passion, sorrow, and remorse--nor rights

But each of us content to touch to move

More nearly the heart giving without thought

That love which grows from life and from the time

We share--communication more sublime

For lacking words, from equal vision wrought.

I cannot say I love a triangle

As pleasing to the eye, nor would I pause

To rid myself the pain of both of you

Were mind not more implacable tangle

Of what I owe than rational--the cause

For pride to live the love the déjà vu.

Christopher J. Cramer

August 1984