“Why is it that noone ever loathes his body?”
Says the Apostle.
I do, I say.
I neither feed my body
nor keep it warm.
I, I tell him.
My sweet Apostle,
I defend it from the unsettling movements,
when it hits me with bodily temptations.
There, it started to paint my lips
to lure me into thoughts of love.
I reluctantly tell you, my sweet Apostle
to thoughts of love!
(Which is the garden not frequented by the snake?)