If I May Have It When It’s Dead By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 If I may have it when it’s dead
    I will contented be;
    If just as soon as breath is out
    It shall belong to me,

    Until they lock it in the grave,
    ‘T is bliss I cannot weigh,
    For though they lock thee in the grave,
    Myself can hold the key.

    Think of it, lover! I and thee
    Permitted face to face to be;
    After a life, a death we’ll say, —
    For death was that, and this is thee.