Autumnal passion ignites the stonemill Sweet nectar of grain and green satisfies the billowing need that broods without end, without weakening but the slow decay of senses devours me upon the reap of day Kinetic and loving at the gates of the cemetery Deep anxieties arise upon her entrance Cryptic love to alleviate the tension in sexual submission Deep anxieties arise upon his entrance into her, enveloped by mist and stone Wandering through mausoleum halls -children in coffins, nothing but bones- she takes leave; cast him alone in air-tight stone His breath takes nothing but death Sometime the sun will rise (and) the gates will open again (and) she will be sought and found - dancing among the graves (but) for now, we leave roses atop this crypt (to) worry me in punitive light as the harvest is set to begin there she is… so beautiful…so free shown aurora light with sobering scythe we wept