You and I

Have so much love,

That it

Burns like a fire,

In which we bake a lump of clay

Moulded into a figure of you

And a figure of me.

Then we take both of them,

And break them into pieces,

And mix the pieces with water,

And mould them into a figure of you,

And a figure of me.

I am in your clay.

You are in my clay.

In life we share a single quilt.

In death we will share a single coffin.