When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win

When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,

A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,

When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…

Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here

You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,

Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.