Shall I compare thee to the sunniest day without gloom?
Nay, thou art heat itself, yet kissed with breeze.
Soft hairs do dance where lips might seek to tease.
Thy bodice loosed, the flowers imprinted on your body begins to bloom
I cast mine doublet down and stoke the flame,
With oak and cherry, lavender and lust—
A makeshift hearth where bodies know no shame,
And my soft whispers of safety on you...