Had I but strength enough, combined,
Of will and flesh, were I more kind,
I would resist the tempting nip
Of apple hue on cinnamon lip.
Objections I would take to heart,
To noble purpose turn my arts.
We peaceful rest in virtue’d find -
But lost these goals, when, intertwined,
The night finds us. How then can I
Endure your seeming sophistry!
Your body is not all to me,
My Byronic bel esprit.
Were that so, less arduous
‘Twould seem to be rejected thus.
For men there are to take your place
If you should spurn my lust’s embrace.
But men there aren’t who never lie,
With smiles wide as western skies,
Whose ruminations make me laugh,
Who follow each chimeric path
My thoughts should take, no men whose touch
Can soothe my fevered soul as much.
Your ardent soul that, like a fire
Draws a moth, makes me aspire
To grasp that candle, though it burns
And all my flesh to liquid turns.
We are but young, and yet my lust
Is rusted, with a layer of dust.
To mind and heart I may lay claim,
Your body yet is free of blame.
But we are young! And full of life!
And this vain world wills naught but strife.
So let us snatch our lives away
From time. Let us forsake the day.
Let every scoring of my nails
Heal every scratch of your travails.
And yet it doesn’t seem quite right
To solve day’s troubles in the night.
And I’d not wish you to regret
The gift that I would wish to grant.
Though moment's lapse caused me no pain,
Surrendering to mischance, I gained -
Such missteps you would not endure,
Resenting my dishonest lures.
Nor would I be imprudent choice
Unmentioned but in lowered voice.
So I will waste my youth with thee,
While sorely counted hours flee.
In silent torture I will wait.
Our beauties cruel Apollo takes.
For though I chafe in airy cage,
'Hap my investment shall pay in age.
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Infinite Improbability Drive
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