when Death speaks to you,

intently hear him; patience cools your tepid drink.

but soft!

Be firm in your six-chambered heart. Extract

the edges of your reason, and examine how you think; ah so,

and so I,

...and waver there, with thoughts of high bridges on our minds,

for tonight is no night for clarity,

but for static rain and the familiar

violentseductive caress.es

of Polaroid laughter, inherited sweater wrapped loose

and all-concealing

over questionably thin skin; in static rain

and jewl'd October light,

will you persuse with me the relavent needed force

and the beginnings and the ends

of exiting said skin; and yes of course

more apples my love - you will

never have enough,

neither of apples nor of sin.

when Death speaks to you,

speak back --

if necessary, laugh.

let us not linger unrequited here

by the whispering and indifferent loveliness of the rain,

pressed into glass and penanaces not

for weak wills but certainly much of our captive hearts;

oh the molecules i say o -- Plath!

Can you say a little on doctors of souls, of bodies, minds,

and how we are to ask

(or plead as things be) from the halo of

and shaken like a Polaroid photograph?

Will I walk in amongst them,

habitual in the Wednesday mornings with their coffee eyes; escape

out from this frame and lose shape as they trace

the bevelled cut-glass edges of a figure I have never been?

ney - in shroven peace, ye'll depart with me.

But Death, you have muddled yourself with eulogies;

they would misspell my name,

and scatter the wrong flowers o'er my grave

-- and fitting penance t'would make, indeed --

And Death would ever frame my being in night

and persuade and laugh and mock away my sight;

even does he bruise and bend me now; then will defies, aright

a human glory, of petty equivocations

'till I wail and laugh lamentations

in jewl'd October light.