I Guard Lovemaking With A Secret Oath

Who is she cavorting in the sunlight with? Who is he dancing in the moonlight with? Dullness is lovemaking without love. Love without passion is tedium. A cyanide pill kept on a low shelf always retained within easy reach of a poor, wretched dove who would coo all day to oneself? I knew what it once was to be loved. I know what it is to reach an apex. Sing, sing ecstatically to the zeniths. It's pure tediousness kissing dry lips. That no longer desire or care a jot. But a heavenly snare to those that with lust, bauble to please and pleasure, drool-moist and flower in the sweetbriar. I guard lovemaking with a secret oath. Transgressions such as these are detrimental to one's wider health if lovemaking isn't love if passion isn't tinged with endless lust. For me, each time wouldn't be a first, it wouldn't be a burgeoning bud This is what it is, in all honesty, to love. In all honesty, what it is to make passionate love.