in the sleeves of your mortal shirt
(for my plath)

mourn me,
enfold me in
the creases of your breath,
that whisper prayer and psalm,
with a sinful tongue

for I cannot save myself, tonight
with this empty bed
and restless mind-
I toss and turn
in the breadth of verses
that knew your lungs as womb-

vanquish this desire
from my chest
to keep beating-
inhale, exhale, life
one spiritual flicker
at a time-
inhale, exhale, life
from the verge
of your holy lips
that reprocreates "in the beginning"

I want to die
in the stretch of your arms-
the same way
the sun will sigh, last light
against the sky,
before she covers
her cycloptic iris
with a shroud of twilight-

mourn me,
cover over me
a shawl of skin
I can be comfortable in