My hands folded piously on my breast

My lips halted in the curve of smiling

I am adrift in my satin boat of rest

Lids tight sealed against your touch's beguiling

And my fingers wooden, stiff and cool.

My love, you are too near; your oven heat

Sears my chamber walls, licks at flesh for fuel.

Now your salt tears burn where they once were sweet.

Like a possum, I play this death for you

Hope the trembling of my lip escapes your eye

For beyond that, I know not what to do

Save, when you plunge the blade, never to cry.

Think your knife dull? you see no crimson flood

But between my prayerful palms wells the blood.