The choice we make.
Sultry eyes or innocent oculars?
A Lusty pout or a sincere smile?
Ridiculously Voluptuous Volumes or the maiden’s delicate slimness?
The lay of it is thus:
That one must conquer the other
For Love and Lust cannot dwell in similar housing at once
Though both are cousins to the other.
Lust is the lover of the bachelor
But love is the practice of the married man.
To lust men surrender nothing and are given all
But in love all is given and naught returned
For lest love be met with love all is frustrated.
In Lust, a man loses nothing, but slakes his own thirsty flesh
Lust is a heady wine that intoxicates those who drink too deeply.
But love is water clearer than laughter
Love is the dream of preachers and daughters
Love is the cascading blue pounding into the soul.
Lust is a cloudy haze of pink and red
But the passions of love are brilliant beyond reasoning.
Lust is a child disgracing the instruments
Yet love, plainly spoken, is a woman who knows and uses them full well.
Lust purports herself as a revealer of mysteries
As a stripper of honesty
She claims to remove our high minded “shacklesâ€