Saved Poem by Inger Jansen

did you ever see your dead lovers face?
how many times?
or did you lose count.

i saw mine tonight.
the same eyes, hair, build.
and he spoke of death.

his lips against my ear
my hair caught his mouth
i think he relished the taste

death was a beautiful woman he said,
he was drowning in her waters, so warm.
and then he felt a hand, pulling him up.

my dead lovers face,
and his dance so full of grace.

it has been so long.