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.