How I'd Imagine Shakespeare Had He Want Of A Y-Chromosome

Sonnet IIII

My lips turn up when palsy strikes your face.
Determined, you descend upon them both.
They catch themselves and settle to that place,
Where if met with mates, forsooth they’ll break their oath.
When met again, separate they yearn to be
Between old friends, they know just what to do,
Equally adept your pair to thee,
That though familiar, still inspire as new.
Our Ivory walls, in conflict never are
Though sometimes eager message you convey
Purse my halves and let you get not far,
Brief the tease, excitement more to weigh.
And when the moment comes when eyes do meet,
Lips no longer care of my discreet.