Saint's damnation

You buy my spirit with those shameless eyes
That burn my soul
You lose the torrent stream of my desire
You make my lips your prize

And on them burns the whole life's hope:
you deem; you buy a heart;
but I am well aware how my damnation dwells in that supreme

Passion to fell upon your shoulder's bear
And pass the dewy delight of our sin
In the intorelable flames of hair
That clothe my body from your head; you win
The devil's bargain; I am yours to kill
Yours for one kiss

Oh bitter Love! Consuming all my will
Oh Love destroying, that hast drained my life
Of all those fountains of dear blood that fill

My heart! Oh woman, would thy called you wife?
Would thy content you with one touch divine
To float your spirit with clinging strife
Of perfect passionate joy
The joy of wine
The drunkness of extreme pleasure
Filled from sin amazing cup
Oh mine, mine, mine!
Mine if your kisses maddened me or killed me
Mine at the prize of my damnation deep
Mine if you will as once your glances wilt
Take me or break me, slay or soothe to sleep

If only yours one hour, one perfect hour
Rememberance and despair and hope to sleep

In the infernal potion of that flower
My poisonous passion for your blood
Behold! How utterly I yield
How gladly dower our sin with my own spirts
Quenched gold clothed love with my own soul's immortal power
Give thee my body, as a fire to hold
Oh Love!, no words, no songs--your breasts my bower!

~Aleister Crowley~