M*A*S*H Slash

write in the style of another author, more than twice the length they look for, so posting it here.

Shakespeare's Scottish play, this scene
Charles Winchester/Maxwell

Is this a corporal I see before me?
His dress near my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I love thee not, an yet I need thee still.
Art though not, beauty indeed, fashionable
Too gorgeous for my eyes, or art thou but
A corporal of the mind, a false image,
Proceeding from the lust-crazed body?
I see thee yet, in form as beautiful
As any my eyes dost see.
Though rouses me under all conditions;
And I would bed you thoroughly anytime.
Mine eyes are captivated by thy form,
By thy grace I know thee, I see thee still,
And though my eyes are closed thy beauty,
Thy dark eyes astound me. There is no peace here:
Except within thy arms in which I lie
Close to my heart. Now under the covers
With thee in my arms, and wicked thoughts amuse
As thee do sleep; the heart celebrates
Turning wicked thoughts, and craven lust,
Into action here in my bed, the love,
Which warms my heart, with its gentle glow.
With Aphrodite’s ravishing strides, you captured me
Wholly by surprise. Thy lovely and firm buttocks,
Feel my soft touch, over your smooth skin, for love
Thy very body trembles under my every touch,
And take the very horror from this place,
Which eats at my soul. While I love, he lives:
Any thing you wish I shall do my best to give.

A chopper sounds
We go, and it is done, the chopper incites me.
Heed it now, Maxwell; for it is a knell
That summons us away from heaven into hell.

Exit.