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That Pleasure Run ThroughWhy O why would you be so bold,As to have me to hold,In health,For sickness,In poverty,For richness,Why O why would you slip onto me,That thing that is thee,For you and for me,Why O why would I give unto you,That pleasure run through,Inside of you,Why O why am I sickness and health,When you borrowed my wealth,Took it in for day,The love that I pay,Why O why do I touch up your skin,Your mind so thin,Your body so dim,And so used by him,Why O why does he linger till now,I beg of thee how,Could he linger till now,Why O why do I fantasise of him,The boy that is dim,In sin you touched,And in sin I can take,So why, pray, why do I love the grotesque,The thought of him touching,Your body so young,So long ago,And here you lay,And I between,You giving you touch,Two times fold,Soon to grow old,More and more I desire from you,That pleasure run through,As it is into you.
The Cavaliers of the NorthThe snow was harsh as rock and sparks,And through it we ventured ceaselessly,Until we found a little town,That took us in unquestioningly.They said to us, 'Now, take this food,Take this gift I offer,It is all we have to give this week,All that is our power.'And right they were,It was their strength that they had given us,So guilty struck we took the food,Our hands were simply trussed.The kindness that we couldn't turn,Down it hung our heads,They gave us blankets, shelter then,And showed us to their beds.I slept that night much like the dead,And in the morning risenThose gentle folk that had gifted us,We thanked them for provisions.And many a night since that God sent day,Have I layed awake in bed,This gentle, warm, feather thing,Upon which I lay my head,So here I think that food we took,Which meant to last them long,And I ate it all enthusiastic,As did all our throng.Did those folk survive the week?Were they fit as travelers?Did we kill them with the manne