Love

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine 

And red with a wild desire; 

I love your eyes when the lovelight lies 

Lit with a passionate fire. 

I love your arms when the warm white flesh 

Touches mine in a fond embrace; 

I love your hair when the strands enmesh 

Your kisses against my face. 

Not for me the cold, calm kiss 

Of a virgin’s bloodless love; 

Not for me the saint’s white bliss, 

Nor the heart of a spotless dove. 

But give me the love that so freely gives 

And laughs at the whole world’s blame, 

With your body so young and warm in my arms, 

It sets my poor heart aflame. 

So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth, 

Still fragrant with ruby wine, 

And say with a fervor born of the South 

That your body and soul are mine. 

Clasp me close in your warm young arms, 

While the pale stars shine above, 

And we’ll live our whole young lives away 

In the joys of a living love.