She opened the door to me one too many times. 
I used to watch her face glow 
In the afterlight, where summer died 
And the dead would rise. 
Their hues an impeachment to all that was Anglo-Saxon and
good. We held life on the end of a kebab skewer, 
Death a sparkler in the rose garden. 
We set fire to the rhododendrons but we 
Let the sad ones live. 
We crawled seamlessly from the cradle to the crib 
And ate our pureed food, ate life.
Left the ugly as our sacrifice.