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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=483557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 130-A</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=483557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My love, caress me only with thine eyes, <br>And not with hands, so bare, where corn now grows, <br>Or call to me as of brisk wind that blows, <br>With thy damp breath which always brings the flies; <br>Let me drink of Cognac, filled flowing be, <br>Or else, just kiss the brim of my wine cup, <br>Before I toast, and fully drink it up, <br>Oft thou consumes the contents, before me, <br>Now speak to me so dearly with catcalls, <br>To complement thy sharp and pointed claws, <br>Which might highlight thine other childish flaws, <br>That could explain, to some degree, thy falls; <br>........But mark to Heaven mine love's industry, <br>........That makes up for her lacking artistry.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Reyvrex+Questor+Reyes">Reyvrex Questor Reyes</a></strong></div>

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