I would like you to die this
moment, before the glares and sneers
and prejudices can find you and
drag you out to the dawn, seething;
before their greedy fangs dig blood
on the flesh of your back; I would like you
to die and become a sacred memory,
a phantom fragrance, a summer night
dream I can hide in the darkest
spires of my eyes... I would
like you to die in my arms - still
warm, unscathed, pure.
...
