Poets and prostitutes parading themselves for public pleasure push loved lips of Wilmot’s sunken ships unto thrusting hips,
Balls of ballerinas enchanting breaths of astonishment in audiences of angels,
Libertines of lovers plunder such virtues as verses,
Slippers of glass smile at Sundays of song,
Ludwing's lovers raise rainbows on rhapsodies,
Giuseppe’s gypsy’s look over geniuses of disingenuous gestures,
Whilst Ben rings out the hour of twelve and I steel grains from the sands of time.
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