From the couches at the theatre
Where she stood adorned in silk
Wearing perfumes of the civet cat,
Black rhino horn, whale gland,
Punch-drunk-love-struck Sulla
Laughed the loudest at her wit,
As she tantalized the balcony,
With her pleasure-loving-kitsch.
She'd impersonate the bejeweled queen
Or some precocious in-between;
And he would hold her by the hips
Fill his hands; bite her lips.
Fingers scraping at her waist,
As his thumbs led past her thighs.
And when she kissed his head,
And when he gripped her neck
Hatred fell away.
But still there would be more impaling,
And there would be crucifixion,
Until his final dictate
Spelled the end of his proscription:
Over grumbles of patricians,
Over gasps of bigot knights,
He has loved Metrobius, the actor,
And he would love him all his life.
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