Mercutio

When I am still I can feel you tugging at my seams,

Your expert thoughts fingering the stitches

Of my self control, of my self respect...

And I promised myself I'd be done with this game

But when all is still, when the world stops moving,

All I can feel are your hands tugging me forward. 

Will you be brave for me, my Mercutio,

And tell me that dreamers often lie?

Or will you wish a Pox so sweet upon our houses 

Both, that I can't help but be drawn forth,

That you can then collect me in your warm embrace,

And draw "shivers of pleasures" from our happy place?