The Title is the First Line

I’m waiting for the kiss you promised me.

There’s something cold in your lips the winter heat

A ridiculous farce is love indeed

Wit lust a trohpaea a priori

Delusions so fine intentions divine

Complicate in sooth make sweet what is brine

Romance is a method to get you supine

no further intention no goals of transcendence

Just stock exchange with an eloquent cadence

The delicate dance of the praying mantis.

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