My beloved is white and ruddy. His skin is as the most fine gold his cheeks are as a bed of spices. Even though he hasn‘t washed since last December. His eyes are as the eyes of doves his body is as bright ivory his legs are as pillar of marble. In pants so dirt
Like the shifting sands of politics, our marriage after a whirlwind romance ended up unhappily ever after. The time we had was forgotten and the way we were was forgiven. Notwithstanding sugar pills and sleeping pills, without you I felt insecure. Would you, bethought I, make a mental note of those spats and harangues were you over the hill.