Who cares if they watch our love?
— Fact they rather'd see:
It matters not in this cove,
In this sprawl of love and sweep:

Re-lose those eyes in this rime,
Then folds will lay and swap:
Then pink and red would stain our skin,
And fight we would to stay on top:

And whites of eyes will sil'ly appear,
Too busy we are enveloped in we:
In all this thing of our love,
Of kiss, and rush, and kiss, and flee.