I clasp her dying body to bloody mine. The essential nature of her was so fine. With torn garments she lays in my arms. . Womanly graces laid bare, no dignity.
Small, a speck in the wide blue sea. 'Tis the last of all the land. A dweller upon our lonesome isle. The last lonely man. . On weary night, under stars.
Over me. Cover me. Deep inside. The fever sea. . Lame from my. My mother's womb. Born a cripple and sick. Under a red moon. . My hands bleed. Feet red raw.