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O
My! O my, o my!
What have we here?
A gem, precious and glittering
Accidentally dropped in the mud,
Mistakenly found, picked up
All wet, dripping, coldly warm
In my hand, I stroke it,
Wiping it slowly, clean it off
Revealing its beauty, its inner glow
Warming me even more
Than the sun burning brown my skin
While lying in riverside Parisian parks
Nude watching the Seine stroll by
Murmuring to itself
Using a language
Clear, clear, clear
One which Pauline Reage tied down
And only these French girls seem to know
In effigy moaning like Renata's mask
Possessing the piano, demon music
Pounding my body with male violence
Beyond orgasm, though never to the limits
Of sainthood, where I find myself
Holding Anais.
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