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  • Home
  • About
    • About Us
    • Contributors
    • Support Us
  • Submit
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Volume I >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume II >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume III >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume IV >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume V >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume VI >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II

Gentleman Caller

by Dawn Levitt
The door I chose not to answer
when bold Death came to call,
though he brought as a courting gift,
a dark funeral pall.

He, unbowed by my resistance,
slipped ‘round to the back gate.
He’d no patience for a woman
who’d not accept his date.

His lipless kiss pressed hard on mine,
colder than any grave.
His lidless eyes stared into me,
and yet I did not wave.

He forced his presence upon me,
ravishing my weak flesh,
but I would not let him have me
while I was quick and fresh.

He raptured spirit from body;
he broke the bonds of earth.
Still, I kept myself a maiden,
my death a virgin birth.

He did not know my history,
a Reaper on my own.
All the men who’ve fallen to me,
reduced to skin and bone.

He does not wish to battle me
upon an open field.
He does not wish to remember
the one who made him yield.

Yet someday I will fall to him
--
all mortals must depart--
but I shall leave such scars on him
to win, for mine, his heart.

Dawn Levitt is a two-time heart transplant recipient and a freelance writer, poet, and essayist who recently completed her memoir about growing up with congenital heart disease and receiving two heart transplants. Her work has appeared in Newsweek, Insider Magazine, Remington Review, Alchemy Spoon, and Epistemic Literary. Find her at www.dawnlevittauthor.com.