a woman so fragile, she is but polished marble
only the fluttering beat beneath the pale skin
is proof of life in this moving masterpiece

An angel in a tree, cloak of wings fluttering
tainted, a virus within the green citadel

Oh bird of paradise upon the branches
what voluptuous fruit hangs free

a glance, an offer,
promises grace thy pretty lips

woo, entice, offer it thrice
take it you silly child
you will not surely die