The twisted silk, weighted,
The river unridden.
Please, Moon, might I learn this untied.
With struggle's arousal,
I've grown with my hands bound.
Ancestral's teachings have lied.
I cherish the kneeling,
And towering Venus.
This muse has my lust so supplied.
As a coin in bed, flipping,
This boy's heavy lifting.
Which will win here,
My lust,
or
my pride?