When We Too Are Armed

We Danced Our Youth In A Dreamed Of City, Venice, Paradise, Proud And Pretty, We Lived For Love And Lust And Beauty, Pleasure Then Our Only Duty. Floating Them Twixt Heaven And Earth And Drank On Plenties Blessed Mirth We Thought Ourselves Eternal Then, Our Glory Sealed By God’s Own Pen. But Paradise, We Found Is Always Frail, Against Man’s Fear Will Always Fail.

So Sweet And Delicious Do I Become, When I Am In Bed With A Man Who, I Sense, Loves And Enjoys Me, That The Pleasure I Bring Excels All Delight, So The Knot Of Love, However Tight It Seemed Before, Is Tied Tighter Still.

When We Too Are Armed And Trained, We Can Convince Men That We Have Hands, Feet, And A Heart Like Yours;.

My Happiness Is Measured In Inches, 2, 4, 6, 8, .... I Love Shoes Too Much.

When We Too Are Armed And Trained, We Can Convince Men That We Have Hands, Feet, And A Heart Like Yours; And Although We May Be Delicate And Soft, Some Men Who Are Delicate Are Also Strong; And Others, Coarse And Harsh, Are Cowards. Women Have Not Yet Realized This, For If They Should Decide To Do So, They Would Be Able To Fight You Until Death; And To Prove That I Speak The Truth, Amongst So Many Women, I Will Be The First To Act, Setting An Example For Them To Follow. —veronica Franco 1546-1591