If I am going to tell you about love
First kiss the ripe blackberry bruises.

     Dark purple bruised sight afore her time’s end.
     Juices flow, biting wonder at tender death.

River flows, where the tender fruit ever grows.
Falling from the top of the sky, seconds fly.

     From the top of the sky, raven feathers fly.
     She the corpse bride to feed iridescent lies.

The corpse a body hungry for earth.
She baked Nantucket pie when she was alive.

     Nantucket cobblestone streets lined with churches.
     Where mortal pledge to be true ‘til death’s parting.

You pledge allegiance to the last kiss
If I am going to tell you about love.