Will you never kiss my face again - A Villanelle

We've been looking at the villanelle in my writing class, so I thought I'd have a bash at one.  There's something very wistful and slightly archaic about the form for me - the repeated rhymes and refrains.  I have been a little free with the form but I think it is still recognisably a villanelle....

Will you never kiss my face again -

your hands reach out no more, your finger's tip

not trace the line of cheek on down to chin?

Will my tongue not taste your breathy stain

and will your lip not press upon my lip?

Will you never kiss my face again?

Remember times when we embraced in rain.

Remember how we gave the sun the slip.

Now there is terror in this parted pain.

You struck me once, I still recall the sting:

your hand against my cheek – my swollen lip.

Will you never strike this face again?

And tears you cried, when stressing under strain

or contemplating yet another trip –  

for there was terror in that parted pain.

But now the parting is complete. Death's train

has swept you from the platform, made no slip.

Now there is terror in this parted pain

For you will never kiss my face again.

shell

I meet you

and my heart bleeds words

and so

upon torn scraps of vellum

I write the words down

in my blood ink

to capture

the beating heart of you

in the beating heart of me

I have chosen my most special epithets

and inscribe them

upon this precious parchment

and with a gum construed

from saliva

and sweat

and blood

and tears

I paste them

upon your soft skin

to cling like lips

to each ululating contour

to follow the curve of your cheek

the sweet overhang of your breast

the challenging valleys

the darker ravines of you

shaped and followed

by my anxious collage

and through such moulding

have I not trapped the beauty

of your spirit

within this papiermâché shell

you dance

and dandle

drift and delight

and I adore you

in this cocooned form

even while I watch

the spirit sift like spun sand

from the pulpit

of your eyes

and listen

to the sea

shudder in your breast

This Is Just To Say

William,

I have drunk

all the Blue Mountain

coffee

if you want any

you will need

to go to the store

I am not sorry

I perceived that

my need

was greater

than yours