My mouth will have ardors of Gehenna
My mouth will be a hell for you of sweetness and seduction
The angels of my mouth will be enthroned in your heart
The soldiers of my mouth will storm your trenches
The priests of my mouth will burn incense to your beauty
Your soul will tremble like an area struck by an earthquake
Your eyes will overflow with the love amassed from every look of love since human time began
My mouth will be an army raised against you an army of rabble
Changeable as a sorcerer who knows many changes of shape
The orchestra and the choir of my mouth will tell you my love
It murmurs my love to you now
While I stare at my watch and wait to go over the top
—Guillaume Apollinaire, “Section Leader”
Art Credit Steve Kim
