With quill and silver knife
She carved a poison pen
Wrote to her lover`s wife:
Your husband`s seed has fed my flesh.
As if a leper`s face
That tainted letter graced
The wife with choke-stone throat
Ran to the day with tear-blind eyes.
Impaled on nails of ice
And raked with emerald fire
The wife with soul of snow
With steady hands begins to write:
I`m still, I need no life
To serve on boys and men
What`s mine was yours is dead
I take my leave of mortal flesh
