The ghost of Venus escaped last evening.
She took hold of my pen and spilled
liquid inspiration, bringing to bear my very air.
When Cupid's arrow came back to me,
I cradled it in my hands.
"Catch me on my way down!", I plead -
my legs dropping away in response
to bones of spun silk which liquefy beneath love's heat.
And though i fell tumbling
through many levels of of perplexity,
I came to light upon the highest cloud
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