and I was born at The Grange Stone House.

A white shirt is blown by the wind that invades the room cutting our spines like cold metal but all I feel on my bare skin are teeth and tongue and the clock on the wall speeds up and slows down to the beat of thy heart; I know by the touch of the lip on the neck and I know it by the touch of the nose on the belly and the thigh on the shoulder and each shoulder touches a different cantica of the Commedia but there's no heaven or hell it's all me me, me me me, me and what's inside; come in, feel the touch and let the breath out on the knife.