I press my palms on
	Window's white cross
	Is that Your dark Form
	Beyond the glass?

	How do they come who haunt us
	In gown or plumey hat
	Or white marbling nakedness
	Frozen - is it - That?

	Their remembrances haunt us
	A trick of a wrist
	Loved then - automatic -
	Caught at and kist

	Gone now to what melting
	Of flesh and bone
	Infinite Graces
	Bundled - in One

	Do not walk lonely
	Out in the cold
	I will come to you
	Naked and bold

	And your sharp fingers
	Featly might pick
	Flesh from my moist bones
	Touch at the quick -

	My warm your cold's food -
	Your chill breath my air
	When our white mouths meet
	It mingles - there 

	- C.LaMotte

	---------------------

	And is love then more
	Than the kick galvanic
	Or the thundering roar
	of Ash volcanic
	Belched from some crater
	Or earth-fire within?
	Are we automata
	or Angel-kin?

	-R. H. Ash


	Possession - a Romance
	by A.S. Byatt