Compliments

I love you so nearly.

I horse whipped idols for years

You’re almost  defined.

Your  tart is mine;I love Cox’s nipples

I keep him by a raider’s well

He put her on a  pedal-less ball

He hated wax without gloves.

I’ll never leave you in the church

I’ll devour ’em in the porch

I  promise to  love, out say  and fol de rol you until  death has no heart