The Appeal

You, Helen, who see the stars
As mistletoe berries burning in a black tree,
You surely, seeing I am a bowl of kisses
Should put your mouth to mine and drink of me.

Helen, you let my kisses steam
Wasteful into the night’s black nostrils; drink
Me up, I pray; oh you, who are Night’s bacchante,
How can you from my bowl of kisses shrink?

~ D.H. Lawrence

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.