The heavens may forget
that lovers sit on idle haunches
waiting for the stars to fall
for lust to make manifest.
The lovers may forget
that heaven, unlike earth,
gives not strength to fools
who would lust make manifest.
The fortunes of fools
my rest on her breast
the fate of nations
may lay in his hands
but lust, oh lust,
to it, who would entrust
the power to turn a man
from steel to dust.
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