Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art hot as **** and make me so tired.
Rough *** doth shake the bed frame as I lay
And watch you - you with passion I inspired.

Sometimes too hot for mine eyes to behold,
I must look away lest I be blinded.
The ring upon your finger shines as gold;
The gleam, my dear, I never have minded.

But thy eternal hotness soon shall fade,
And wilt thou see how mine has faded, too?
Death shall take out our hot ***** with *****
And shovel, dragging me to hell with you.

But I guess there are other parts of you I like;
Together, through the afterlife, we'll hike.