154: Once asleep I’m sick of true love, disarming love; I’m diseased, too hot a votary of you.

I’m sick and so I take a vow to a life of heart-inflaming desire — never touching you..
Trompe l’oeil conditions I now know approximate maiden hand abstractions.. (tripping by..
each taken up hot as a brand) ..and so well inflaming we can grow

mind and body worship by your side, worship un-quenched, a general practice that warms us before perpetuating a healthful belief system. Or

do I prove a chaste remedy never cools, but heats your heart for a cure?