My little lover,
Honed steel wielded to my flesh
As your hands restrict
Mar my skin,
I implore

My little lover,
I beseech my lifes water
To know the folds of your tongue
To ******* lineage
After it has bred with your saliva

Oh my little lover,
Not all is of sword unto sheath
Though your seed could flood my gardens;
Not all is of drowning
Or of blooming

Oh God,
My little lover
I beg for that which is wielded
To whiten my flesh
In the silhouette of your name