I see that everything you’ve doneis gentle. Let me die gently.Let me breathe a long cotton breathand be done with it.Don’t pretend that your interest in survivalis also my (best) interest.Do you understand, I’m no longerfascinated by the slant of sunlightthrough cheesecloth curtains?And what is life without fascination?No. That last breathe will be exquisite.Nothing so silken has ever moved through meI have never entered or been enteredwith such love. I was a motherand life was in me. I was a father andI bled salted life. It is time. There is nothingso certain under the sun.