Explore "A Memory of the Players in a Mirror at Midnight" by James Joyce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
They mouth love's language. Gnash / The thirteen teeth / Your lean jaws grin with. Lash / Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.
Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung, / As sour as cat's breath, / Harsh of tongue.
This grey that stares / Lies not, stark skin and bone.
Leave greasy lips their kissing. None / Will choose her what you see to mouth upon.
Dire hunger holds his hour.
Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears, / Pluck and devour!
Zurich, 1917.