6/17/2017

Aren't

Ardent are my eyes which look at you, my soul. Aren't all my cries yet a worthy goal? Arrest me by your arms and arm against my waist, unburden all from me that is good and chaste. Snatch away my breath and grab my tender heart. Plunder mine rosy cheeks and coax these knees apart. Sir, all I ask of you, do not destroy my love, which begs on bended knee for you to be beloved.