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Tips of toes bruised,

Arches perpendicular to stained floorboards.

A cord tangled tight in those strangler's hands of yours. 

The fluttering notes of an aria, 

Crackling gently through the gramophone

To tickle the fibres swelling with sweat on a broken neck.

Purple, yellow shadows 

Are puddles on aching, splitting skin 

That dribble and spit blood, bad blood, on marble toes. 

My words are gagged, 

They gurgle in my throat, and I feel bubbles burst 

In my head. I see Death through paper eyelids and breathe him in.

You let go. 

You halt my pendulum swing, 

Grasp my wilting waist and, Death?

He closes a sympathetic hand to me once more. 

You lick my salt wounds, 

Hold me close with searing palms

Stand on my faltering feet and hiss delightedly: 

'Oh just once more, my little doll, 

Before we kiss goodnight!

Let us dance the guillotine waltz

To a corpse's lullaby.'