B: Xxviii: Baudelaire And The Vampire - Poem by Douglas Scotney
By the sky of a just-set sun
I recalled an imperishable line:
'Je croyais respirer le parfum de ton sang'*
(May as well be 'breathing your blood') .
By the time it was dark
I was drinking your breath,
So arty with happiness,
Not even the sun itself,
(Just-risen from the scent of love's blood) .
Just-sent from the rise of blood love.
* XXXVI Le Balcon. Fleurs du Mal.
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