Upon the eve of my demise I was so enchanted
that I could not quite surmise what my mind spied.
Moments later I grew surprised as I realized it was you
My darling, my dear, my sweet. I know you, though you may deny
the old sorrow by which we cried. Upon this play you've cast,
upon my life our souls intertwined.  and eventually your breath too.

A poem of love, or so I am told, is the greatest cure for this willow.
A moment of sorrow, or so I am told, is the medicine I do seek.
A lifetime of regret, I require to ****, as I weep into this pillow.
A hand of warmth, is all I asked, as my spirit begins to grow meek.

Let's say you hate me.
I don't think so, you love me.
Zip up your heart dear.

My mother told me when I was a boy
Son look up, and see it, that grand old sky.
But now I suspect, her meaning was coy.
When I look up, I see that we will die.

This great ordeal will end without a ring.
For I have befallen no matriarch.
Not one coy mistress to dinner I bring.
For life is as passioned as my food's starch.

I don't want a body, merely your heart.
I no longer care, life has lost its art.

and on the highway that night

(city lights like honey combs
quivering in a black, cool indifference)

I felt at once too large
and too small

                for this world to contain me