The Whore's Lament

Do not think I did not notice Thee,
Inhaling sweet whimpers of my ecstasy.
Thy eyes resplendent in the knowledge of me,
Inducing my countenance to fervent pink.
My furtive glances,
Cognizant of thy deep intoxication
With my scent and
Thee, my Lover, in speech with another.
Thy witty fingers brushing cum stained tips against virgin lips,
Bending to whisper sonnets against her ear.
Gazing all the while at me,
Censured sight
Seeing me ill-reputed,
Thinking me only cock-suited.