[This is an Italian sonnet, so ABBAABBA CDECDE. Inspired by a song lyric.]
"There is no such thing as love," she declares.
"As creatures of logical thought, we must
Not bend to dreams of Heaven; we are dust
In God's eyes, so I choose to ground my prayers."
"But would you not say what we have is rare?"
He states. "If my feelings can't win your trust,
Then we are but two atheists in lust,
And the wonders of life but dirt and air."
She rallies, of course. "Love comes from within,
So we make our own wonders - isn't that
More beautiful than meaning through belief?"
His hands dwell on her cheeks: "Then let our sin
Drown God; his elegies our welcome mat,
Our joy the cause of his followers' grief."