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- I Love You
- BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
- I love your lips when they’re wet with wine
- And red with a wild desire;
- I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
- Lit with a passionate fire.
- I love your arms when the warm white flesh
- Touches mine in a fond embrace;
- I love your hair when the strands enmesh
- Your kisses against my face.
- Not for me the cold, calm kiss
- Of a virgin’s bloodless love;
- Not for me the saint’s white bliss,
- Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
- But give me the love that so freely gives
- And laughs at the whole world’s blame,
- With your body so young and warm in my arms,
- It sets my poor heart aflame.
- So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
- Still fragrant with ruby wine,
- And say with a fervor born of the South
- That your body and soul are mine.
- Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
- While the pale stars shine above,
- And we’ll live our whole young lives away
- In the joys of a living love.
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