An atrophic fold in the waist -
A victim of Consumption.
An entropic mind is a waste,
And wasting away alone, I lie still
Over the sheets, naked.
The dystrophic limbs,
pins and needles and numb lips,
All the lonely night can be is the stave-off of sleep
And the starving of self -
From my eyes my spirit leaps,
But tonight, time is set, and fate is set,
And my face is set for spirit’s rest.