When love was rubbing my nobility gently.
Often times my love
Has come, to be mine,
To the sublime of wine,
In rest and inner luxuriation,
Holding on to my temptation.
Feeling the vein
Of my pulse and adoration,
She took hold gently squeezing,
The motion, rotation,
That is well known as pleasing,
Accompanying me to glory,
We endeavoured to share a story,
Climbing higher to whence we came,
Well oiled and sated.
Screaming wildly on heavens name.