Metamorphoses of The Vampire The woman, meanwhile, writhing like a snake across hot coals and hiking up her breasts over her corset-stays, began to speak as if her mouth had steeped each word in musk: My lips are smooth, and with them I know how to smother conscience somewhere in these sheets. I make the old men laugh like little boys, and on my triumphant bosom all tears dry. Look at me naked, and I will replace sun and moon and every star in the sky. So apt am I, dear scholar, in my lore that once I fold a man in these fatal arms or forfeit to his teeth my breasts which are timid and teasing, tender and tyrannous, upon these cushions swooning with delight the impotent angels would be damned for me! When she had sucked the marrow from my bones, and I leaned toward her listlessly to return her loving kisses, all I saw was a kind of slimy wineskin brimming with pus! I closed my eyes in a spasm of cold fear, and when I opened them to the light of day, beside me, instead of that potent mannequin who seemed to have drunk so deeply of my blood, there trembled the wreckage of a skeleton which grated with the cry of a weathervane or a rusty signboard hanging from a pole, battered by the wind on winter nights. ~Charles Baudelaire~
Posted on: Mon, 14 Apr 2014 00:33:40 +0000
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