Epitaph

Sweet Chastity, lieth here beneath the snow
She lived in fear of vice, but found nay salvation in virtue
I kissed her once, and if that, a thousand times
Begged her to be my misfit bride
Her beauty that would make the Heaven's fold anew
And lo, the proper and wicked creature she was
Would turn away and sigh
Sitting with her kness held tight and a book of
The Verse open and unread on her lap
Distracted and flushed, sweet virgin pink
I beg for naught and lift her skirts
Can she find room for complaint?
Lowering her eyes with a gasp as I ran my tongue
Up the inside of her white velvet thigh
God's word falls to the floor with a thud
And the Age of Principal succumbs to Nature
As before she knows it, she has spread her legs
Open wide
Seeking to remember the taste of every inch of her
Honey deep and sweet
She wraps a tender fist in my hair
Draws me closer and begins to cry out
An eternity of spasms
A religious experience not for words
The Bible sits on the shelf
It's words of virtue and woman scorned in dust
Fondly remembering Chastity
For the day she died
A Woman was born