Nathalie, I pity your skeleton frame.
You could never be but a ghost,
A haunting from cold college days.
Roommate opposed on ways of life,
Methods of love, opinions on why
We’d been sentenced to here and now.
Sun Myung Moon stole your soul,
Prophet of sack cloth, lost possessions.
Mine went to dead end rock n’roll.
We both long for rescue, to escape.
Eternity begins to unwind with
The slow dance of our lives
Falling outward onto faded pages,
On faces wasted by painful lies.
Too late, our bones have dissolved
In the bitter wine of time.