With quill and silver knife
She carved a poison pen
Wrote to her lover's wife:
Your husband's seed has fed my flesh.

As if a leper's face
That tainted letter graced
The wife with choke-stone throat
Ran to the day with tear-blind eyes.

Impaled on nails of ice
And raked with emerald fire
The wife with soul of snow
With steady hands begins to write:

I'm still, I need no life
To serve on boys and men
What's mine was yours is dead
I take my leave of mortal flesh

• Formentera Lady
• Islands
• Ladies of The Road
• Prelude: Song of The Gulls
• Sailor's Tale
• The Letters