Discovering the Goddess

Nay, ask not if I am sick of love,

But ask ye me if I be sick from love.

For my night has turned about the horrid day,

And hath hidden its godforsaken shadow from my arid eyes,

And hath shown me a beauty as can only be seen by the quicksilver moon,

As can be seen as that mercury light washes over those bloody-white cheeks,

Glistening over unloved, untouched, and undefiled skin...

Let me love this touch from those rapturing lips,

For they convey to me the touch of Eros,

And gives life to my barren heart.