Dying love

and after all, in the end you wouldn’t want to be lying low, covered in dirt, flowers, and wood all around, if not but to share your house, with a maiden you love; it will be such a mercy, to live after death, a life I already lived with you, and to rot our bones together, so that our memories mix in, with the soil which will creep through; don’t tell me you want to leave, for I didn’t love you for your absence, your hands still make me quiver, and your breath, leaves me a little shaken; forgive me oh my love, be with me till my death, I suppose if not in the same coffin, then visit me at my stone, everyday; - A