Fetch me the finest gin, give me the finest silver; I want all the champagne and sunshine,
the silkiest sheets, the shiniest glasses, topped off with simpering men and simmering sex, and when I die I want all my lovers to weep as they stand over my diamond encrusted shrine.
Screw the all mighty Gods and their rules, the damsels waiting pathetically in their towers,
Because a bee that makes honey for itself and not for nature is so much sweeter,
And if it tastes good, feels good, smells good, then it simply must be mine to be devoured.
And to those girls that resent me: you could never dare to be such a flirtatious dreamer,
With dazzling hair, alluring eyes and slim thighs – good luck trying to be me,
You're never going to win anything by being a ditsy powder-puff with stupid feathery.
YOU ARE READING
My Own Tangle of Thorns
Poesía'Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.' I have always loved this quote. I have always loved Lolita. How the cruellest things i...
