Sonnet LXXII

I bought a tin of tuna at the store.
I thought of you. I know. It’s sad.
This strange obsession’s driving me quite mad.
I think of you when buying albacore.

Flotillas filled with fish all roam the earth.
Each one I could have searched for one I liked,
but I found you. For all the clams and pikes
and mackerels have not a single worth.

What’s love? Who knows. But it’s unfair to you
to not know who you are. I’ll drop you here.
I’ll wait back by your docks, forever near.
Forgetting you, as all the goldfish do.

There will be many fish out in the sea.
But none will be as dear as you’re to me.