“I lie
before you soaked
in white orchid, its redolence
assails like devil’s fire. And when
you sheathe my body with your flame
I get drunk from the blood of you, the flame of you.
Then, when the new moon mounts
black sky, I inhale your breath
and pray to you: swallow me
alive.”
-
J.B. Bernstein, “Bacchanalia” (via missvoodoodoll)