What is it sonnet

What is it sonnet that you and I have, why so close,
is it due to our early embrace, spoiled me for other forms,
you are my saviour, my medication, but what heavy dose,
now I try to transcend you and write with sweating palms;

anything new takes time but slowly our skills bloom,
but I don’t linger anywhere that I can hope to master,
my ever so wavering, fleeting mind shall be my doom,
at times like these I return to you and my dreams foster;

you my first love but unlike with women I am allowed more,
I grapple with a limerick, haiku or the occasional Villanesque,
if only with you alone, I remain, but my primal lust comes afore, 
you conquer my dreams too, even when I am not in my desk;

knowing full well with confidence that you will be there for me
I embark on the treacherous seas of novel forms with glee. 

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