He
does
Not look
like
I
Thought he
would
Death
I thought it was a skull
He should be a scythe
Ah! The glorious scythe
Curved and gleaming
But
      where
       is
it
That vicious scythe
Notherenotherenothere
Where
Why
       is
He
     beautiful
kind
          funny
  wrong
Shouldn’t be
Should be
hideous
But he is wonderful
With eyes bluer than the sea
And skin turned copper in the sun
no gleaming bone
no grinning skull
His only weapon:
the beautiful lies that escape his lips and drip down my ears,
so very like honey
And they’re mine
I accept his embrace