hush: a journal of noise

She will be the actor and his young wife in French hotel room, one last look in the lovely mirror, taste of Veronal in their mouths, morphine in their veins, the slashing of her wrists, then his, she will be the novelist and his lover drowned in the flooded canal, water-bloated and six days lost, she will be if I can’t have you no one can, she will be it will only hurt for a moment, she will be we’ll always be together, she will be the round sullen moon overhead, she will be bed-sleeping beside you and cold, oh, so cold.