Sweet love of mine, cruel captor of my tiresome, bloodied heart? Be eternally in my arms? Pressed hard against my aching breast for all the world to see?
Trapped and tortured between my luxurious lavender sheets? All I desire upon this earth, in life and death eternal, is your hand held tight and hot within my own aching palm.
Our love should cry out, ring only of a love, a love so true, so pure, so bright, that the likes of the mere mortals circling our turret of passion shall never be able to look upon the bright beams of our reverential, godly love.