Dancing on the edge of oblivion,
The cruel hand of disaster
Reaching out
To grasp at my ankles
But I do not fear
For I am fugacious
Balancing on the edge of a sharpened blade.
I seem to be only a scintilla
Nothing more than a spark, a hum, a whisper
Or a vestigial smoke.
So come and hold me
Close to your chest
So I can hear your murmurous talk
Our love could entwine us
In gossamer silk
And whisk us away upon lithe wings
My life
Which is such an imbrication
Is desperate for a break in the sempiternal monotony.
And as I leave,
I inhale the opulent scent
Of our love
Because the penumbra of
Of death
Has shown up on my doorstep...