I bathe in the lush of the moon;
Of her shadows I weave
From my breast to my knees
a whole garment to tantalize Pan!
My mouth has the red of the adder
With sharp teeth that sting
As they close on the mouth of another.
My breasts are like great pointed bubbles
Which the hands of some wood-god have fashioned.
I wait for the beat of Pan’s hoofs
As he leaps pushing great hairy fingers to crumble the shoots
Of the vines and bushes that hide me:
Spring I erect
Tossing glad swaying hands and bright shoulders,
Fleet of foot, with wild laughter
I whirl and am gone.
” Reality doesn’t impress me.
I only believe in intoxication,
in ecstasy, and when ordinary
life shackles me, I escape,
one way or another.
No more walls. ”
upon your heart,
and one much
(in a letter to Josephine)