She sold souls:
solely to get gold.

She sold souls:
solely to spit cold.

She sold souls:
solely to let the young be old.

Her scars brought shedding tears of joy.
           Soon I see I will not be a little boy. 

Her tears made a stream of shooting stars.
           Soon I see I will not have gold that is hard.

Yet her fingernails are in my nostrils.
            Soon I see I will not have my tonsils.              

              And my soul will be deep in her breath.
              And my life for her will be a living death.