Please don't mind if I make
love to you
Imagining another in my arms.
No one special - anyone will do
Whose claims have not yet sanitized her charms.
Lust loves not love, but finds its joy in power:
To stir someone to sunlit ecstasy;
To purchase someone's person by the hour;
To force the flesh to yield the fantasy.
Love loves not lust, but finds its joy in giving:
Pleasure, yes, but passion slowly fades.
Affection, yes, but one needs more from living:
The knife-sharp edge of lust that love betrays.
Give then, my love, the flesh that spurs the dream,
As I for you, that lust might love