This lust is as variable and intense as the seasons,
thus I've committed the highest treason.

Satisfying the id of ids
converts the ego of egos
into a cacophony of confusion
that falls around us all
like deciduous reason.

With a sensation like the whir of Cupid's
arrows
piercing my thigh!
...
He knows.

My senses awry!
...
Sigh.
Goodbye.