Diary of a Drug Fiend

Short Commons 155 With her octopus lips, and the teeth Jagged and black beneath, Pulp and blood from a nail. One swift prick was enough In days gone by to invoke her: She was incarnate love In the hours when I first awoke her. Little by little I found The truth of her, stripped of clothing, Bitter beyond all bound, Leprous beyond all loathing. Black, the plague of the pit, Her pustules visibly fester, Cancerous kisses that bit As the asp caressed her. Dragon of lure and dread, Tiger of fury and lust, The quick in chains to the dead, The slime alive in the dust, Brazen shame like a flame, An orgy of pregnant pollution With hate beyond aim or name— Orgasm, death, dissolution! Know you now why her eyes So fearfully glaze, beholding Terrors and infamies Like filthy flowers unfolding? Laughter widowed of ease, Agony barred from sadness, Death defeated of peace, Is she not madness ? She waits for me, lazily leering, As moon goes murdering moon ; The moon of her triumph is nearing ; She will have me wholly soon.