– L’ Amour de le Mort –
Death comes to me
as a creature of love,
longing that I might be so brave
as to look freely upon his face.
I’ve been close enough before to see it clearly,
to touch upon his paling beauty.
Death watches over me,
lovingly stalks me.
He walks in and out on me,
kisses grazing at my flesh
like a fickle lover,
and I am left waiting
for his gentle touch in full.
Death waits for me,
holding my place on the borders
between his domain the living world.
Sometimes I wish in my longing for survival
that I had not looked away,
that I had not so fiercely shunned
his gentle embrace.