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'the love instinct is so exceptional in order to overcome such cultural reactions as shame, disgust, horror, and pain'.

never into greasy gratuities
or one night cemeteries.
rotting flowers usually hint
to a lover's state as well,
although some people are
exclusively into ' porking
the bone '. i would try to revive
you with a strange electrical device.
if this failed i would build an
elaborate above ground burial vault
specially constructed phones
communicating with your
creaky silence. i would live
quietly too for several years, reading
Lautreamont and/or Ducasse, smoking a pipe,
and playing Duran Duran on a pipe organ i'd
have built. until some morbid
curiosity seekers would reveal you
as missing from your tomb.
you are found reclining on
a large canopy bed curtained with
cheesecloth. your face, breasts,
arms and legs reconstructed. fashioned
with a vaginal apparatus complete
with gleaming rubber tube. i will 
rebuild the lost parts, bandage the broken parts
and the destroyed parts which have to come out i
will replace. i pit in sufficient absorbent
material for packing to soak sleeping beauty
in solutions feeding you, develop the tissues.
my airship completed carries us 
both high into the stratosphere, so that
radiation from outer space will
penetrate you, restoring life to your
somnolent form.

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