Though I the one the arrow pierced,
  we both displayed the symptom:
You, the one that plunged the blade,
  and I, your willing victim.
A madness, hence, burned in our blood;
  no draught could quench the fever.
A trick so cunningly conceived,
  'twould swindle the Deceiver.
This double blade, this binding act,
  for which we cry, "we must!"
A crop both yielding grief and bliss:
  the double-edge of Lust.