And since a double night is consuming your brow, <br />Since Heaven against your years has set ageless flow, <br />Foams of desires floating above our blood like dews, <br />Our bodies shall mimic the recumbent statues <br />And our slumbers their proper pose. <br /> <br />A still more profound death inhabits our kisses. <br />Death is an end, indeed, whereas kisses are snares. <br />No herald ever mourned swords broken to pieces. <br />Dido to Aeneas in vain calls and sheds tears <br />Over ships the wind ravishes. <br /> <br />The scent that graves exhale floats about your bed. <br />Candles clothe it in sighs, cloud it in gleaming lights. <br />Mourning is hiding in the serge <br />And sheets that sweat bathes and bites <br />Make of this cenotaph a bed where our love dies.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-seemingly-dead-girl/
