Francesca Can Too Stop Thinking about Sex, Reflect upon Her Position in Poetry, Write a Real Sonnet

pilgrim, i did not mean to be so loose

of tongue, so bold in all i loosely told

in my smut so smug, so overly sold.

i did not mean, pilgrim, to traduce.

i apologize, i offer no excuse:

but, poet, though you have right to scold

it was highsouled you who made my mouth hold

what it held and tell what it told. a truce,

no, let’s call it an honor. mine is apt,

as far as long sentences go: my vice

in your verse will tempt others to try

and sing: readers, lovers forever rapt

and about to sweetly sigh: paradise!

thank you, poet, for keeping me alive.