Sonneteer's note: this is the latest installment of an on-going sonnet serial, Pepito Mojito: The Interstellar Feller. New readers can get up to speed by clicking on the "Interstellar Feller" tag below to bring up all installments. Start at the bottom and read your way up to today's...
Launched forth with just a kick from his sickbed,
Pepito, like a guided missile aims
For his Yectara, grabs her, tilts her head
Up towards him as though for a kiss, but maims
Instead the module in her throat with which
She's wreaked such lovely havoc. "Naughty," he
Says quietly. Her lips begin to twitch --
In anger or desire, we can't see.
He takes her hand and leads her, confident
In zero gee as we've not seen before,
Toward the bridge. She knows not his intent
But meekly follows, wond'ring what's in store,
And contemplating that warm, rosy glow
Suffusing him above and yes, below.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
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