Love is in my bones —
it’s in my blooms and
in my spilled-red blood;
lust is in my perfumed flesh,
desire-poems in my skull.
How many kisses have I
in my primal fervent lips;
how much pristine rainbow’d
faith in my life-worn soul?
Love is in my bones —
it’s in my blooms and
in my spilled-red blood;
lust is in my perfumed flesh,
desire-poems in my skull.
How many kisses have I
in my primal fervent lips;
how much pristine rainbow’d
faith in my life-worn soul?