The Winged Beetle

123 BELLADONNA My heart’s blood hot upon your lips is reason For the ensanguine banners of their bliss ; My white soul that your malice took by treason Is the cold ardour in your cheek, and this My bower that was jasmine in its season Is all your yellow snakes of hair, that hiss And fasten all their fangs upon me—these I knew, forget ; they leave your saint at ease. I have forgotten all these things, erotic While it was dark, while flesh corroded flesh With cancerous kisses acrid and exotic Like orchids, while the star-queen flung her mesh Over us as we swam, one soul dicrotic That blindly leapt through billow salt and fresh :— Oh darkness ! how the perfume of it clings ! How then have I forgotten all these things ? The light came on us kissing. Then I vaunted My lust again, and drank that fearful cup But—what new witchcraft held my soul enchaunted ? What necromancy sucked my spirit up ? I saw the demon-archimage that haunted Your eyes, that had me to his house to sup