Loneliness is a fine thing,
Wrapt in all shiny paper,
                                beautiful as a cut crystal      
Those facets glinting,
those faces sharp reflections        
Often I gazed and watched
the ebb,
My life's ebb and her flow

      Waning in the sky      
waxing as the moons
of her cheeks
      Leaning forward , taking a  bite,
supped at her flesh did He      
Chewed, slowly ruminating

      Whisper'd voices, cold glasses      
snow is falling,
Take My places and fill the cauldrons
      stoke My desire      
fill the pyre, I shall sup at the burning ghats  
      Charnel houses My haunt,

her hand small in Mine as follows Me
she will
      steps demure, and faint at times,        

walk the path and fly
as They step off the abyss      

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