Hanging (or, the ride of a selfish lover)

“A-ha!
Through the trapdoor below -
Two filly eyes threw a soft light on me.
If that’s gratitude -
Fancy aloof?
Damned-damned, I will be.

Bless you!
But the child will die.
From the daybreak to the wrought noon,
Heave and heave,
As I leave -
Soon.

Hee-haw!
The road to the woods is -
Cold, old mossy, immense lonely – Cassandra's know.”
The door splits.
He floats -
In a soft glow.