this place of delight and darkness (Certainly not safe for work!)
November 19, 2016
Don’t be afraid of moving your face close to this place – and already your tongue, the chatterer, is restless – this place of delight and darkness, this patio of ardour, in its pearly limits, the fine image of pessimism. O cleft, moist and soft cleft, dear dizzying abyss.
It is in this human wake that vessels finally lost, their engines now unserviceable, returning to the infancy of voyages, hoist the sail of despair to a jury-mast. Between the curly hairs how beautiful the flesh is: beneath this embroidery well divided by the amorous axe, the skin amorously appears, pure, foaming, milky. And the folds of the labia majora, joined at first, gape. Charming lips, your mouth is like that of a face leaning over a sleeper, not transverse and parallel to all the mouths in the world, but fine and long and forming a cross with the speaking lips that test it in their silence, game for a lengthy punctilious kiss, adorable lips which gave kisses a new and terrible direction, a meaning forever perverted.
Le Con d’Irène (Irene’s Cunt )