Mathilde in White Stains by Aleister Crowley.
“O large lips opening outward like a flower
To breathe upon my face that clings to thee!” [via]
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Consider also:
- “She creeps alive upon the tawny sands, False glittering woman, girt about with lies! She steals toward me, the tigress sleek and fierce! Destroying devil, with long sinuous hands And hate triumphant in blue-murderous eyes! I nerve myself to spring upon and pierce With maddening fangs those firm white bosom towers, To tear those lithe voluptuous limbs apart And glut my ravening soul with vengeance. Heart Quickens as she draws near; the scent of flowers Breathes round her damned presence. Shall she live To triumph with those tainted lips of song — She whispered ‘Dearest, I have kept thee long’. I flung myself before her, ‘Love, forgive!'”
- “Prince of the air, thou offerest nought to me I serve thee, recompensed of hell-fire, More nobly than these others, verily Since none with impious word may mock at thee ‘Thou has a guerdon, is it not for hire?'”
- “What need of language, barren and false and bleak, While our white arms could link each other so, And fond red lips their partners mutely seek?”
- “Fame brought a golden crown, bejeweled o’er With precious rubies beyond price, and cried ‘The world is young, thy name shall evermore Ring in men’s ears, stately and glorified’ But I, with shuddering lips, to him replied ‘Fame is the amaranth that fools desire My soul’s price is beyond thy jewel’s pride Thou has a guerdon, is it not for hire?'”
- “It is a sweet thing to be loved, Although my sighs in absence wake, Although my saddening heart is moved, I smile and bear for love’s dear sake. My songs their wonted music make, Joyous and careless, songs of youth, Because the sacred lips of both Are met to kiss the last good-bye, Because sweet glances weep for ruth That we must part, and love must die.”