WHY do you spurt¹ and sprottle      like that, bunny?
     Why should I want to throttle²
     you, bunny?
 
     Yes, bunch yourself between
     my knees and lie still.
     Lie on me with a hot, plumb³, live weight,
     heavy as a stone, passive,
     yet hot, waiting.
 
     What are you waiting for?
     What are you waiting for?
     What is the hot, plumb weight of your desire on
         me?
     You have a hot, unthinkable desire of me, bunny.
 
     What is that spark
     glittering at me on the unutterable darkness
     of your eye, bunny?
     The finest splinter of a spark
     that you throw off, straight on the tinder of my
         nerves!
 
     It sets up a strange fire,
     a soft, most unwarrantable burning
     a bale-fire mounting, mounting up in me.
 
     'Tis not of me, bunny.
     It was you engendered⁴ it,
     with that fine, demoniacal spark
     you jetted off your eye at me.
 
     I did not want it,
     this furnace, this draught⁵-maddened fire
     which mounts up my arms
     making them swell⁶ with turgid, ungovernable
         strength.
 
     'Twas not I that wished it,
     that my fingers should turn into these flames
     avid and terrible
&n............