115 In a jolting corridor, cheeks ablaze

115                       

In a jolting corridor, cheeks ablaze,

Jane strafed me.  Her upstart heart,

at hit and run, riddled my daze,

stunting to upset my apple-cart.

 

Bandit, were I myself again, why

I’d answer your fire and blindly deny

that lovers that come too soon, too late,

must wait upon another fate.