The Bodyless Idea

This morning, I dressed in my last dress's last dress. Fit for only a genteel gothic murder,. covered up well, airtight would only fit the stabbed one after bloodlet. Who wears it and where? I will, from the bed to the chair. Red is dead, said blue, to you too? Hind quarter gauze with silver face clamp and sickened ears pulled, unscald, broken back piece - shadow sensible by other than sight. To smell a shadow, to strike it, to trace it later, to measure a body by its line. They run like a stocking down the leg of the mind. Why not quieter then? There is no body

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