95: There’s a hidden pretext for every vice, every sport or budding passion. Also the story of dispraise. 
We leverage, if we really want to, commenting further w/out you. But there you are! my heart. 

How long does my tongue go on telling your story — how great, how sweet it was / adoring your beauty 

.. still .. Here I am! Lascivious conditions today. Only naming a name, your name; 

No hope now it’s you. Bliss bundles this large privilege, including my un-storied shame all eyes can see — in heedful dispraise of our sins, my heart.