Quote:
Originally Posted by Rilkean
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To Rilkean:
O' lo doeth the yellow rose score,
How I'd like to bang you on my kitchen floor.
Tis ye I speak... Rilkean my dear
Being without you is what I fear.
Oh cast not thy passion to far
Herest cometh I, to your boudoir.
Your gentle embrace and sweet kiss I seek
Tis what I wish... arst thou not piqued?