a critique was written to me asking if this poem was about myself. my reply is no, not in the way meant, but rather about a dear dear man named Mak whom I adored who has died. when I speak of a ripple of baritone I am speaking of his awesome deep voice. Though I am no way near that of being suicidal, still I do look forward to the day I pass on so I can be with him once again. Thank you for bringing this to my attention Alyssa!