I fear that a woman so queer
Brought to bed in sin my only kin;
To shame, Lorraine,
For my lover lies cold beneath cobble and stones
with my Rose only a bud, never to bloom past her gravel tomb,
and you.
Mercy a third to join your gravel grave,
I gave your husband his own far from your stones
and buried him in my thoughts, buried him alone.
A lifetime plus decades have since passed and I inhabit an empty home,
collecting dust on my bones.