Calm clam
                       I command you
                                                               DANCE,
                                                for all the world is shivering
                                                       and your foot
is a fire
                                                     a-tingle
with wood and
                                   what some say sorcery
                                         others say forgiveness
                                            and Blood like mine
                                          is far from wine,
but made for blanching
                                                    snow, - -
to fall
                     deep
-lee
                             into ropes,
oh       stretching
                                                                         cords wrapped deepened
                                                                from my lungs,
                                                              all my organs build a latch,
                                                             a gate, a sink,
                                                        a house,
                                                                        a humble mansion
  for a crumble-man:sinned
and
                 tor
che
                             d///     to spirits
                                                              of
                                                                     a
                                                                          liquor.
                                                  To build again a fire,
                                                    not flames,
                                                       but a W(Holy)
                                     consumption,
                         "I am not dead yet", but once soon I will.