The Wings
Had I these wings, I would not need to write.
I would be with you; then, a young male swan,
I would find happiness afloat upon
The ripples of your muscular body, bright
As mother-of-pearl may be in God's own sight
When He would found His whole new heaven thereon!
Thence, would my body were One Eye, to con
Your face, the rosy lotus of delight!
I would dip deep my beak into the flower
And pluck your tongue, its ruby heart, and shower
All my life's love upon you, swift as Spring's!
And I would lift you on my pinions
To light and heat more splendid than the sun's
Mistress!-Woe's me! for I have not these wings.
Thelema
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