Bacchanalia (poem)

BACCHANALIA

I lie before you soaked in white orchid,
its redolence assails like devil's fire.
And when you sheathe my body with your flame,
I get drunk from the blood of you the flesh of you.
Then, when the new moon mounts black sky,
I inhale your breath and pray to you:
Swallow me alive.

j. b. bernstein