Sometimes a bit of prose doth spill forth from mine voice agape with suggestive subtleties and twisted temptations...
Thee doth turn thrice upon mine eyes until mine cogitations a tempest.
Acquit mine longing stare upon thine divine beauty.
Thee has baptized me in thine aura.
I beseech thee, let be the casement of mine soul so as I may keep it unto mine self.
Temptress be thine name.