I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,
And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama
And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away-

Anointing each with olive oil
Massaging their loose white flesh
Feeling frosty crystals break
Breasts and thighs warming to my touch
Adding pepper garlic and plenty of thyme
Placing each in a buttered basting pan