Should I feign my innocence and draw you in with lured words? Beware. There is a net and a knife in words, my love. But I, I am too guileless to weave a trap for you, too overeager to lie in wait for you. I stumble to you across the open turf like a pilgrim at his journey's end: empty-handed, a prayer on my lips. And with reverence I lay my arms across your breast and wrap my hands around your slender neck...