I sit in the sky like a sphinx misunderstood; My heart of snow is wed to the whiteness of swans; I hate the movement that displaces the rigid lines, With lips untaught neither tears nor laughter do I know.
Charles BaudelaireTags: beauty charles-baudelaire the-flowers-of-evil
My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.
Charles BaudelaireTags: poetry lost heart poem eat conversations beasts charles-baudelaire the-flowers-of-evil eaten les-fleurs-du-mal
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