In case you thought we don’t have creative range, you thought wrong. Welcome to The Thrill sonnet corner.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
your beady eyes, your fur striped gray and black,
your foaming mouth (due to your rabid craze),
and how you dive in dumpsters for a snack.
I think it’s cute you always wear a mask
like a thief who steals priceless works of art.
Would it be far too bold of me to ask
if for your next heist, you could steal my heart?
I want to tell the world we’re more than friends,
to shout it from the roof of Caples hall,
but then reality floods back and ends
my fragile fantasy when I recall
the tragic reason we are forced to hide
our star crossed love: you’re Mather, I’m McBride.