To Kiss Her

To kiss her—
How I miss her!—
'Twould bliss stir.

To kiss her?
It's remiss, for
'Twill cause a fissure,
Make her hiss, sure.
I this lure?

To kiss her,
Not dismiss, spur,
All that's amiss blur,
Into an abyss whirr.

It seems it is pure;
It would bliss stir.
I this lure.

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