Nestled under the warmth of folded nymphes
Like a pistil of flesh in a painful lily
The Clitoris, living coral, dark heart,
Frémit to memory of forgotten mouths.
The whole woman vibrates and concentrates in him.
It's the source of the rut under the fingers of the virgin.
It is the eternal pole where desire converge
The spasm paradise and the heart of the night.
What he whispers to the flanks, every flesh hears him.
At its lowest frissons the mamelles are tending
And his deaf beats put the body on fire.
O Clitoris, mysterious ruby that moves
Shiny as a jewel on a God's chest
Stand up, black blood, in front of the red mouths
Pierre louÿs - " the clitoris "
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten