I kill
in my poems
I die
in my poems
The pen my knife my gun my pills my cliff my rending hands
Pulling ripping flesh from you from me from the universe
Spraying the blood the ink
Lifeblood knowledge
Paints my feelings my experiences my existence
In my poems on the page.

These poems my blood sacrifices
My offering to you, my friends enemies and strangers,
My most unworthy gift
These poems my blood sacrifices
My salvation
Unreached in life lives in my death
My only gift to myself.

I kill (in my poems)
I die (in my poems)
That you and I might live.
Maybe together maybe apart.
But live.

                                               S.D.  5/25/94