Here let me lie and ask for nothing more
than but to be, beneath your feet, your floor.
Fain would I taste the sweetmeat of your leg
and sup your beauty, but in vain I beg.
You will not give me any more access
above your ankles and beneath your dress
and, O, how savagely my thoughts aspire
to climb your coolness with my lips of fire;
to kiss those inches twixt your foot and knee
and open your locked door with my iron key!