IL BACCIO
I am not garrulous enough for love,
and would only seek to shut you up -
though I did dream I was kissing you
intently. Actually, rather it was you who
were kissing me, and I was willing, yes, oh,
I was very willing. You pressed the point,
and kept it going, one fine kiss after another,
and I - like William Tell - kept shooting,
kept on playing, kept flinging arrows until
I'd hit my mark. You know how that ended
up. The arrow in the forehead. Right?
Or did no one ever tell - you?
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