Spend my cold corpse. Carve me no epitaph But cuts of life. Pack lungs and living heart To breath new spirit in a flatlined chest. As dear a coin is blood. Deposit it On frozen terms, faith, for a fatal day When someone else deserves my second chance. Grace not the grisly off-cuts with a grave. No human hides inside heaped-compost bones. Release that rigor'd hand. My deeds remain.