Lamia

So often now, as I lie sleeping She calls to me, sweet sister, weeping For a lover’s love. And I, a suckling babe, Am roused from rest To suck upon her rosebud nippled breast. To feast upon her honey-melon breast. So often, on the moonlit air She comes to me, Lamia fair. Her lips’ red wine Pour over mine And I caress her scented hair. Press wide the crimson blood plum bloom Press wide the warm and soft-walled bloom. So often in your guise, sweet sister, Comes this vision, that I’ve kissed her Nightly in your stead. But come the dawn the lady flees Carried on the morning breeze And I discover in distress That errant dreams have been my mistress.