The down of thy delicate cheek
Drank dew from the fountain of life;
Thy lips, when they parted to speak,
With honey and sugar were rife;
Who loveth to drink of the dew
Of honey, to taste of them flew.
An Anthology of pieces drawn from my collecting and dealing in the obscure byways of queer literature. A new kind of anthology I hope - evolving, odd, eclectic...