Breathed, her ripe red mouth the woman, in husky tones,
Twisting her body like a serpent upon hot stones
And straining her white breasts from their corset,
Let fall these words, potent in musky scent:
"My lips are moist and yielding, and I know the way
To keep demon of conscience of remorse at bay.
All sorrows die upon my bosom. I can make
Old men laugh happily as children for my sake.
For him who sees me naked between my sheets, I
Replace the sun, the moon, and all the stars of the sky!
Believe me, Scholar, I am so deeply skilled in love's art
That when I wind a lover in my soft arms, and yield
My breasts like two ripe fruits for his devouring-both
Shy and voluptuous, insatiable and loath-
Upon his bed that groans and sighs luxuriously
Even the impotent angels would be damned for me!" - charles baudelaire
 Celeste_Orchid · Sun Sep 25, 2005 @ 07:01am · 0 Comments |
