War and Love/Her Mouth
HER MOUTH
IHer mouth is a crushed flowerThat unpetals marvellouslyBeneath my lips.
IIThe perfume of her flesh says with me,Dwells in my mouth and nostrilsAfter she has gone,So that no flavour of wine or flowerCan conquer it.
IIIThe crimson that dyes her lipsDyed mine, so close were our kisses;All day I felt its soft caressMaking smooth my lips.
IVShe has but to turn her headAnd lay her lips to mineFor all my blood to throb tumultuously:She is so shudderingly beautiful.
VWhen I am bitter sadWith the emptiness of harsh daysThe memory of her kissing mouthBurns me to gladness.