It's your eyes.

It's your vixen smile.

It's the way you sit next to me and

listen.



O, vixen,

foxglove girl,

you might be the most dangerous thing,

I've ever seen.



I know what tempted Eve.

I know why Menaleaus started war.

Why must the apple sleep,

in your sigh?



I'll call you Aphordite

if you call me yours.

I'll call you Venus

if you smile Vixen.

I'll call you Calypso,

Eros,

Aine,

just say that you...

just say anything.



I become a bard for you.



You are poison, Foxglove.

But what apple was sweeter,

than the forbidden fruit?

Your poison has no antidote Foxglove.

I die,

for I am weak,

and you are deadly.



But what is there in death,

but life?

Jacob shall be shattered by your hands

but born by your breath,

anew,

and better still.



A kiss from your lips and I am cleansed,

pure Vixen,

a touch and I am blessed.

No man shall be me

but all shall envy me,

because I belong to you.



Vixen,

Foxglove,

deadly flower,

beautiful woman,

why can God be so cruel?

Why must he make you,

his masterpiece, his greatest piece,

unobtainable to me?



But the storms must break Vixen,

as all storms must.

You can break your tempest with a wave of your hand,

and I shall be standing on the shore,

gazing at your eyes.