Touch, without touching. We are devoted,
Nor does he remember his wise.
But we faint with horror to be: lush
Of body and consent!...
And of flesh... of this work We are very curious.
Except Friday – only:
The confessor is thin... and the ecstasy pious
In fact: Lent entirely.
... Another one gives itself. - Here we damn ourselves -
It is a tabernacle - open - that is desecrated.
Bénitier where the snake is hidden!
That Love, elsewhere, like a rooster is sung...
HERE IS! The modesty-of-attack haunts him...
It's the Apple (cooked) in fish flower.