Menken, Adah Isaacs
I am no Magdalene waiting to kiss the hem of your
It is mid-day.
See ye not what is written on my forehead?
I am Judith!
I wait for the head of my Holofernes!
Ere the last tremble of the conscious death-agony shall
have shuddered, I will show it to ye with the long black
hair dinging to the glazed eyes, and the great mouth
opened in search of voice, and the strong throat all hot
and reeking with blood, that will thrill me with wild
unspeakable joy as it courses down my bare body and dabbles
my cold feet!
My sensuous soul will quake with the burden of so
Oh, what wild passionate kisses will I draw up from
that bleeding mouth!
I will strangle this pallid throat of mine on the sweet
I will revel in my passion.
At midnight I will feast on it in the darkness.
For it was that which thrilled its crimson tides of reeky
less passion through the blue veins of my life, and made23them leap up in the wild sweetness of Love and agony of
I am starving for this feast.
Oh forget not that I am Judith!
And I know where sleeps Holofernes.