Spice jeweler

Dickinson & Poe

Could not put a stopper in death

Like Snape promised Potter in a seductive snarl

Snap-back I find myself drenched in death

With the penalty of life

Dickinson held fast to the belief that Death had civility

Waiting and stopping for her

Poe felt death foaming at his fingertips

And crying like a raven rapping at his door

Cursed in eternal tombs that are tomes

I'm frozen in my devastated love Curtly cut off by disaster and pain

I create cut glass of spice in Hades

Not a juicy pomegranate for my lips

Only leftover spices that had no use