The Tale of Voyeur Angels

New lovers celebrate the impossibility of emptying themselves to one another completely, thus achieving a milestone on the way to peak intimacy. The surveilling angels shake with crude jealousy, yet for the lovers they’re also oh-so happy. They sing:

May your oysters always be shucked.
May your chickens always be plucked.
May the sun always rise
between your damp thighs
after a mind-blowing fuck.