Trunk, Meet Pocketknife

And as the last letter dripped onto the page
Rage in a smile cast itself black

I hung from that tree
The one they fell, when I feel heels over head
Swinging me dead at the trunk
The one they used for the obit paper
A bit dramatic, but my name spelled right
The sun cried beams and tore at your skin
Feeling how the snake at my neck done me in

A few days later, they knew it was you
A few paces from mine, another yew
And so came the rope and the sun and the cry
With the still-living there asking how

But they never found that long-lost rage
Standing void at my back, your black smile
I wrote eternity was yours and mine
Or tried, with the last letter of love
Yet you found her with me
The last letter I'd see
Was this E