Upon this Night hence I haggled the Thief
And pruned the Sky for a Tastier Deal
To which these Replies flow Raindrops so brief
Then page Illusions their Moments be Real
Perhaps. At the Moon press Answers divine
Then cause the Lunatic to preach his own Code
Till when Love's Taste turns Sour as thine
And Sweetness coats such Fine Sugar absorb
Perhaps. To the Sun do Increments form
When no other Value would hasten the Taste
Allow Baser Voices secure the Norm
The sacrifice your Core all into Waste.
These Motions end. A Lemon all I could give
For your Seed's Joy; Which for her you shall Live.