|
I couldn't love a woman who wasn't a Maenad,
at least half mad, with a poet's heart.
A woman who would never wear a bridle, even mine - or ask me
to.
I want a woman who's drunk on God, who has felt her soul
swell like a pregnant woman's belly at the touch of the
divine.
I want a woman who who can blow my mind by saying things
like, "I can describe the Mysteries in one word: fuck."
I want a woman whose eyes look back upon ancient days, and
whose lips always taste of wine.
I want a woman who gets up and dances when a good song comes
on, and doesn't care what anyone else thinks.
I want a woman who after long hours of worshipping the God
in the hills, will come back to me smelling of pine trees
and damp earth, sweat and wood smoke, and the crisp night
air.
I want a woman who'll push me to the floor, lift up her
skirt, and ride me all night long.
I want a maenad - and no other woman'll do.
|
