And I, (much as I have tried To bury Her from mind, Fate's tourniquet was tied, when She died...) Still sense Her presence so divine Lithe arms about my throat Like pining swans entwined Footfalls at nightfall close to mine Suicide is a tried and tested formula for release I snatch Her whisper like the wind through cedars See Her face in every natural feature Midst the mist and sleepy hollows of fever...