Explore "Epithalamium" by Fernando Pessoa on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Io! Io! There runs a juice of pleasure's rage / Through these frames' mesh, / That now do really ache to strip and wage / Upon each others' flesh / The war that fills the womb and puts milk in / The teats a man did win, / The battle fought with rage to join and fit / And not to hurt or hit!
Io! Io! Be drunken like the day and hour!