Danse orgiasque

Oh learn the beating of the blood,
Where naught is feeling, naught is cold,
And follow in the lusty flood
Which arms and legs and heads enfold.
In pulsing flesh and yearning bud
Keep flowing, oh, the lithe, the bold;
With panting and the skin’s warm mud
Go on, go on, compress, grope, mould—
Betwixt the bodies of the lain
Shoots through a throbbing pleasure-pain,
With that, the beating may abate;
But when the panting rings insane
Then will the bloods mingle again—
And passion fails to satiate.

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2 Comments

  1. OF ALL TINY THINGS IN THIS WORLD

    Taaaaaa I’m still so happy they asked you to play The Birdy Song! I was like radiating ooooohahaha. Go own the Stupid Nymph and when when when you get a prize you can go ‘HAH IN YOUR FACE -sticks pedal in face-‘

    Ciaoooo. (Jana) & I forgot my Lj password.

    Like

    Reply

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