Lucrenifor: Lover... lost

There was once a time, and such times haven't yet ended, when the God and the Devil walked beside each other and indulged in long evening strolls while they discussed the many doings of this world. To some watchers, they were but object and shadow, each changing into the other ad infinitum. The tale told here is of one of their conversations on one beautiful evening.
It might seem that the beauty of the evening extracted such dialogues from the hearts of the duo. It might also be that the conversation needed the backdrop of such resplendent fibre, for the evening skies were dressed in astonishing finery. Puffs of crimson were trapped in the grey cotton wool of clouds and from this sanguine game of peek-a-boo, the firmament stole the most divine gown of dark velvets bleeding beautifully. The conversation was, after all, about the heat in human blood, which causes the heart to beat to the rhythm of a hummingbird's wing and moistens the eye with untold pleasure and pain - each fairly indistinguishable to the affected heart; the Devil spoke of love and the God listened.
As the Devil described the lightness of the heart and the mind when trapped in the presence of the lover, the skies broke in claps and sprinkled fresh stars as far as the echo traveled. God was amazed and sat down lest the walking as an activity blunt the brilliance of such a conversation. The earth blossomed in marigolds and daffodils punctuated with primroses where God was about to sit.
"And thus are the ways of a lover, a true lover, my friend."
"But is there any truth in love?"
"Why indeed!", gasped the Devil, "Love is truth, and one never searches wetness in water."
"Is it? Amazing, indeed. And you say it is not of class or clan?"
"Not of skin nor skill."
"Quite a wonder you have made for your entertainment, dear Devil."
"Not much of my volition, dear God."
And the Devil sat beside God, and the earth was nourished where the Devil sat. Silence spent their time together, for beauty and words make mean companions.
"Lo! Who walks there, dear Devil? Is that your love-child Lucrenifor?"
"Such handsomeness can't be of another, dear God. Yes, indeed that is he."
"Love as you describe it cannot be foreign to his blushing breast."
"Alas! It is. He lives in the pure world of absolute beauty and the brushes of love are yet to paint on his heart's canvas."
"Then it should be today."
The skies parted for the honey of the evening sun to trickle down to the horizon and, after gathering over the sparkling waters, cascade along the never-touched line which separates the earth and the heavens as much as it does man's sense of reality and his world of beliefs.
"So be it, brother."
"You shall present him with what you can, and I shall give him the best of my might."
"Generosity colours the world today, dear God."
And they watched Lucrenifor walk down the dried bed of the Santory stream. Such grace and firmness of walk was unknown and the sturdiness of his calves were only matched by those of a panther. A wide shoulder trimmed its way down to his waist fastened at the right places by rippling muscles. His knee was prominent and so was his chin, but both were softened by the flesh that surrounded them. Dreamy eyes caught the slightest wonder and left his full mouth half open with the edges of his lips not wishing to come apart. Lucrenifor was made to tear out the heart of every virgin and every woman who wished she was virgin again.
As he climbed over the bank, the taut muscles of his derriere supporting the entire weight of the lady-killer, he spotted something. He bent down to pick it up.
"What is it that catches his eye, dear Devil?"
"You might want to go and find it out for yourself", Devil said and smiled.
God rushed to where Lucrenifor was on his haunches, and cleared his throat. But so absorbed was Lucrenifor in what he held in his hand, that the voice of God fell on deaf ears. God looked sheepishly at the Devil and returned to address Lucrenifor.
"Dear son, what is it that you hold?"
Lucrenifor smiled at his palm and brought it close to his breast where he held it with great devotion.
"What be it, that pulls you dearly, son?"
But Lucrenifor replied not. Slighted, God returned to where the Devil stood and failed to hide his disturbance.
"What troubles you, my friend?"
"He refuses to respect God."
"Such be the power of love that he holds in his heart now."
This didn't quieten the agonised God and he continued to grumble under his breath.
"Suffer not, my friend, for that is the way of love. The infected see not time and feel not hunger. The world is nothing to them, and at once is everything because it houses their lover. What could you then possibly wish from such a lover's heart?"
God stared deeply at Lucrenifor's blissful expression and smiled more towards his left ear.
"So be it, but I shall fill his heart with the need to rationalise it and place it on the leaden pans of pragmatism to weigh it till he lives not of his love."