Of all of these words the truest Star in heaven was first:
A name of which from all the succeeding generations burst.
With enclosed designs where my salacious counsel does fit
Sagacious she is - bold and born of a turbulence of wit.
Restless she is too - unfixed by principles or place;
Her powers unleashed with the patience of her grace.
A naked fiery soul which works out daily in her own way,
Unfettered by the gloriousness of her own body’s lack of decay.
She, the master of my mind ever beating my heart away from the clay.
A daring luxurious softness engulfing a flaming fire,
Poised with passion and waves of pleasure reaching ever higher;
Like a summer thunderstorm renders the calmness unfit,
Steering love nigh into my hands, boasting of how her touch has wit.
Of great wit we are, surely, as madness is to be allied;
As these thin partitions do touch the boundaries they divide.
Our bodies plundering our souls’ wealth loving the honor blest,
Refusing our age any needful hours of rest.
Sharing a simple body which neither alone could ever please;
For the single body alone is bankrupt, but together, a prodigal ease.
Flesh always leaves that which its touch has won
Un-feathered and four-legged making the two into one.
Oh, to my soul in my deepest huddled notions I do try;
To be reborn into the shapeless spent lump of you and I.