'Even when I danced erect <br />by the Nile’s garden <br />I constructed Necropolis. <br /> <br />Ten million fellaheen cells <br />of my body floated stones <br />to establish a white museum.' <br /> <br />Grisly, foul, and terrific <br />is the speech of bones, <br />thighs and arms slackened <br /> <br />into desiccated sacs of flesh <br />hanging from an armature <br />where muscle was, and fat. <br /> <br />'I lie on the painted bed <br />diminishing, concentrated <br />on the journey I undertake <br /> <br />to repose without pain <br />in the palace of darkness, <br />my body beside your body.'<br /><br />Donald Hall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-painted-bed/
