Over The ThresholdShe lives! Her golden eyes once moreSlip-slide my way, the rose comes toHer perfect cheek. Her fingers, pale,Caress my collar gently – IAm once again absorbed, and liveFor her. She lives, indeed, for meThe grave-dirt fresh, and clinging toHer dress (trimmed midnight blue). Her woundAn inch above her perfect breastGives lie the heart that beats withinIt beats! In spite, her blood runs coldAnd yet she loves. For love I stilledTime's wanton cycle, and her tongue,Encased in crystal. I embraceHer gently, and she smiles, holds forthHer blue-white hand: I follow herThe threshold, shadowbound, awaitsOur ice-wrought honeymoon.
Apple PieThe sweetest apple pieMy darling (die)It's made with loveAnd lover you will findThat love is blindJust take a slice(Just try this coffin on for size)And in the breath before your final cryYou'll catch the scent of apples and goodbye(I really make the sweetest, bakeThe sweetest apple pie.)