Some time ago I realized,
Death is the best suitor--
When He finally calls my name, I
Shall utter His, and there He will stand,
like He's been there all along.
I shall gaze into His
Endless, icy blue eyes,
Touch His cold, pale face,
And fall into His arms
Then ask, "What took so long?
I've waited my whole life for you."
His lips shall brush my quivering
flesh as He holds me up,
And beneath the moon, we--
eternally conjoined lovers, we--
Shall dance and twirl,
Kiss and caress and make love.
The Last Lover--Death,
Who shall certainly neither abandon
Nor forsake me, in my
State of wakefulness from
The nightmare of life--
Death, the only lover who keeps His word,
He will whisper in my aching ears,
"I promised I would come
For you, now here we stand.
Another vow I make to you--
You shall eternally reside
With Me, in Me... as Me."
We will then smile,
Full well knowing the truth
Of His words, and the idiocy of
Dreading their sweet imminence.
Forever then we shall dance, and twirl,
Kiss, caress, and make love unparalleled.








