I might considertrading freedom for love,as most daysI feel about as freeas a housecatprowling its suburban domain,king of the shag carpet,whereas lovebegets love, even in confinementand no one commandsthoughts, not even a lover,not even when matedfor life.So let me lick my chops in peace--seeming illicit seems delicious.
This illicit ditty is vaguely responsive to my own prompt over at Real Toads: Freedom for Love