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After 58 years, I realized I did not know what a woman is.
It appeared to me as light and joy, mystery and gentleness,
mother and whore, sensuality and perversion,
accompanied by a love in which there are those who suffer and
those who act as executioners,
For many it is a source of ecstasy, for others object of contempt;
for me without women "nothing can be, nothing is";
he is a being, on which all the graces of nature are concentrated
but far from bringing peace, and of which it is not possible
to do without .
is she a Vampire?
"
I, I have moist lips, and I know the art
Of losing old Conscience in the depths of a bed.
I dry all tears on my triumphant breasts
And make old men laugh with the laughter of children.
I replace, for him who sees me nude, without veils,
The moon, the sun, the stars and the heavens!
I am, my dear scholar, so learned in pleasure
That when I smother a man in my fearful arms,
Or when, timid and licentious, frail and robust,
I yield my bosom to biting kisses
On those two soft cushions which swoon with emotion,
The powerless angels would damn themselves for me!"
When she had sucked out all the marrow from my bones
And I languidly turned toward her
To give back an amorous kiss, I saw no more
Than a wine-skin with gluey sides, all full of pus!
"
(Baudelaire)
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