Dear one, amidst the moon that night I called
for you to lay amongst these sheets of gold
with me. So gentle came the sound, the fall-
ing of soft air from  greiving lips: "Be bold,
be swift, my love. For I have watched you sweat
a thousand nights before this one, and held
your trembling  form in sheets of silver, yet
you call to me, tonight, without a yell.
Be loud, imbibed with youth, without a whis-
per on your tongue. Be bold, be swift, but most
of all, I plead you be-" A clap, a hiss,
and all was quiet. So softly went your ghost.
Now clad in sheets of bronze, tonight I lay,
at last at peace. There weren't words left to say.