Ha no time for foot nudes rn
The eyes of my darling break the firmest wills; they are a heavy wine that flows to the brim, a philtre that carries vertigo; they are the maddening fumes of hemp, an opium that shakes the soul and drags it, hopelessly lost, into troublous hallucinations and paradisiacal beatitudes.
And what does it matter! Drunkenness, vertigo, enchantment, delirium, I would drink them all, to the point if ecstasy, in those enticing cups. I would assuage my anguishes, I would stifle my rancors in the warm fumes of thy breath, in the unalterable splendor of thy great eyes.
I would drink forgetfulness, irremissible forgetfulness, upon thy lips, upon that bed of turbulent flowers which is thy blood! I would open those red corollas and, in so doing, cause to gush out, in a burst of high light, thy teeth, those teeth that invite to libertine combats, those teeth that cruelly gnaw the stuff of hearts, those teeth that sound, so furiously, the charge of kisses!
Jeweler, choose your most precious stones, let them trickle between your fingers, kindle, in multicolored sheafs, the flames of garnets and of amethysts, of sapphires and chrysoprases; never will their fond flashes sparkle like the eyes of my good madonna, like the eyes of my so sweet torment.