Sonnet 1138 (parody of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130 - Leia x Jabba)
My master’s shoulders are not strong and wide,
Nay, I do not even know where they are,
Hidden beneath all the folds and blubber.
If deep baritones should make one shiver,
Then his wet rasp makes my stomach quiver;
And skin that should be warm, smooth, and muscled
Is instead cold, slimy, far too jiggly.
I love a sun-kissed tan and dashing scars,
But his is more slime-kissed and dashed with warts.
His alarmingly long, gray tongue, by far,
Is the most exciting thing that pokes out his body.
My master more rolls and heaves than he walks;
And yet I find him exquisite and rare,
He who leashed and covered my skin in gold.
Serena Tam, 16, Hong Kong International School