From the poem Diary of A Young Old Man by Egyptian poet Amal Dunqul (my translation):
"I know that the world in my heart..
But when the radio stops...and
the rooms are closed:
I dig in my heart, and
take out this waxy body and
lay it over the bed of pain
I open his mouth, and
make him drink the wine of desire
Maybe a ray will throb in the cold
and solid extremities
But...his skin disintegreates in my palm
Nothing remains of him...except:
a skull and bones!"