You are a cool cemetery.
You have the sinner’s grave
You have the saint’s earth
colliding
You have all the beds
narrow as a knife;
as if a rally of tombstones to defend death.
But you can’t really postpone
the inauguration of my burial,
can you?

From the poem – Few Words to Cemetery

Once she was gone, I knelt next to Annabeth and felt her forehead. She was still burning up.
“You’re cute when you’re worried,” she muttered. “Your eyebrows get all scrunched together.”
“You are not going to die while I owe you a favor,” I said. “Why did you take that knife?”
“You would’ve done the same for me.”
It was true. I guess we both knew it. Still, I felt like somebody was poking my heart with a cold metal rod.

You are a cool cemetery.
You have the sinner’s grave
You have the saint’s earth
colliding
You have all the beds
narrow as a knife;
as if a rally of tombstones to defend death.
But you can’t really postpone
the inauguration of my burial,
can you?

From the poem – Few Words to Cemetery

Lyonesse stared wide-eyed at Lynet’s hand and swallowed hard. Lynet realized that she was still holding the carving knife and had been pointing it at Lyonesse’s breast. She laid the knife down slowly and gathered a few plates of food. “I’ll take the rest of my dinner in my room, I think,

1 2