The Book of the Dead.

My blood is ink,
My spit is love in your mouth,
No tears will ever run down your face,
For this love is all around.

My eyes are a universe,
My hands will heal,
My voice will be your heaven,
And my ears a wishing well.

My death a token to fulfillment,
As my words lay on your skin,
No darkness will ever stand it,
For this love is real therein.

My body is your plaything,
My dreams are your pills,
My openness will be your awakening,
and my cries will crush your fears.