Death Sentences

I was born too late and am much too old,
My dear Hamlet,
To be your pimply Ophelia,

To spread my hair like flattened wheat
Over dark waters,
Upset the floating water lilies
With my floating eyes.

Glide between fishes like a fish,
Sink to the bottom like a seashell,
Burrow in the sand next to shipwrecks of love,
I the amphora entangled in seaweeds.

I’d rather see you take off my dress.
Let it to fall to my feet like an aspen leaf
Which the wind, playing dumb,
Shakes without asking permission

I’d rather have that death sentence,
Eternity of your arms around my neck.