By the New Yorker, how would it be if some of histories favorite writers requested a maiden for nudes. Some of my favorites below:
Deliver me thy bosom, oh beauty,
And I’ll fly my flag at full mast for thee.
Prithee, I am undone by thy favors
And sooth, I’ll write an ode to she who gave hers.
Freedom is the right to tell people what they do not want to hear, and to send people what they do want to receive, if you catch my drift.