Deaf Sonnets

I compared thee to a summer's day.

And I died, dehydrated and alone.

I lie parched now

for mirages give glimmers of warmth

in the mind and in the soul

phantasms of succor

where really all else folds

but a shadow of the light

that I expected to see

stepped slightly forward to greet me

I stand now relieved

-my cheek turned-

flagged red

to the enemy 

on fire

and burned