This mouth of mine is virgin'd once again.
It has, since we last kissed, known only thirst.
And this, my musty member, keeps his pain
and scorns all females though he's fit to burst.
And my desire for love has not diminished.
My loins are pregnant with unscattered seed.
They'd impregnate the world and not be finished
till galaxies of girls had quenched their need.
Thus I honour you in aching silence.
My tribute to you is my pent-up lust,
Vesuvius with all its latent violence
did never threaten Pompeii with such dust!