I love you as I love a sculpture Greek;
An art of yore when beauty reigned o’er all.
I love you, love, with all the love I seek;
And if’t be sin, I’ll love until I fall.
Claim me, Venus, in alabaster boughs.
Hold me hostage in your sapphirous eyes.
You’re the means which my libido allows
Itself to feast; my true urge, my grand prize.
Can you not see how I long? How I pine?
I love you more than any woman dare
Or any man confess. You should be mine
To have if fairness made sense anywhere.
Yet, alas, fairness hangs on gallows cold;
And evil resides in your master’s gold.
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