But I would deify the wanton flesh / And drink the carnal poison to avoid / The cherub’s arrow pointed at my chest.
Content warning: coarse, sexual language
Sweet Love, I say, I won’t give you my soul
To wear like stolen finery. Alas,
I’d sooner thrust my tongue in someone’s hole
Than shove myself up Cupid’s ample ass.
A glutted rose’s thorns will decorate
This passioned season’s summer-wilted end,
So if you yearn to weep the tears of hate,
Abandon pleasure; welcome pain’s descent.
A shallow tryst may leave the heart devoid,
But I would deify the wanton flesh
And drink the carnal poison to avoid
The cherub’s arrow pointed at my chest.
Romance and Lust are villains too akin
To tell apart within this cage of skin.