Marquis d'Etroit
d’Etroit is my mistress. She is my life. She is my blood. When I lust, I lust only for her. When I long to be loved, I long only for her to love me. If I were to live a thousand lives they would each be wiz my petit d’Etroit.
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Image | Brancaleone/Savic
O Mistress Mine
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
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