From Eden born of heaven here on earth,
She's blessed with angels' kisses since her birth.
In truth, pure lust does guide my heart's desires,
Though songs of sex seems all that she requires.
I said, "Instead of love's debates again,
Delight we dine on love before it dims.
Forego the bonds of breechcloth, chaste and bound,
But gather we the fruit before the ground."
Did I then place the mote within her eye
To sway her heart to sin? Could I deny
The sudden warmth embraced me, she, her heat,
How burning flesh did meld when it did meet?
Passion passes none who's lips gladly taste,
And pities pious privilege its waste.