Diary of a Drug Fiend

154 The Diary of a Drug Fiend Her cranial dome is vaulted, Her mad Mongolian eyes Aslant with the ecstasies Of things immune, exalted Far beyond stars and skies, Slits of amber and jet— Her snout for the quarry set Fleshy and heavy and gross, Bestial, broken across, And below it her mouth that drips Blood from the lips That hide the fangs of a snake, Drips on venomous udders Mountainous flanks that fret, And the spirit sickens and shudders At the hint of a worse thing yet. Olya! the golden bait Barbed with infinite pain, Fatal, fanatical mate Of a poisoned body and brain! Olya, the name that leers Its lecherous longing and knavery, Whispers in crazing ears The secret spell of her slavery. Horror indeed intense, Seduction ever intenser, Swinging the smoke of sense From the bowl of a smouldering censer ! Behind me, behind and above, © She stands, that mirror of love. Her fingers are supple-jointed ; Her nails are polished and pointed, And tipped with spurs of gold: With them she rowels the brain. Her lust is critical, cold ; And her Chinese cheeks are pale, As she daintily picks, profane