Songs of Bilitis - Benjamin Adamah

BILITIS
One woman drapes herself in snowy wool. Another clothes herself in silk and
gold. And still another hangs herself with flowers, green leaves and purple
grapes.
As for myself, I must live forever nude. My lover, come and take me as I am;
without a dress or jewels or little boots, behold me! Bilitis herself and nothing
more.
My hair is black from its blackness, and my lips arc red from their red. My
ringlets float about me free and loose and round as feathers.
Take me as my mother made me in a distant night of love, and if I please you in
that fashion, please do not forget to tell me so.
THE COTTAGE
The little cottage where he has his bed is the loveliest on earth. It is made of the
boughs of trees, four walls of sun-baked clay, and ringleted above with moss and
sod.
I love him, for there we lie now that the nights are cool; and, the cooler the
nights, the longer they become. At break of day I find that I am tired.
The mattress is upon the earth; two covers of black wool enclose our warming
bodies. His chest is pressing hard against my breasts. My heart throbs. . .
He crushes me so hard that I shall break, frail little creature that I know I am;
but once he is in me nothing else exists, and I could have my four limbs cut away
without awakening from my ecstasy.
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