" Ô, the wine of a woman
from heaven is sent,
more perfect than all
that a man can invent.

When she came to my bed and begged me with sighs
not to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise,
I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes,
then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise.

While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fine
I devoured her mouth, tender lips divine;
and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine.

Ô, the wine of a woman
from heaven is sent,
more perfect than all
that a man can invent. "

― Roman Payne