The bones of the dead are tender ice
that knows how to crumble
and become dust on the lips
the ones who loved them.
And these live lips can no longer kiss.
The bones of the dead
swiftly
spread their whiteness
over life's intense flame.
They kill all passion!
The hones of the dead
can do more than living flesh.
Even disjointed, they make mighty chains,
keeping us submissive and captive.
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Page last edited February 14,
2000
by: PhoneBoy