La Petite Mort

The coffins he made were exquisite. Each one unique: bespoke to the occupant's precise requirements.
Take the one just now lowered into the ground. Carefully constructed to snugly accommodate her wonderful body. The lining padded to perfectly match her beautiful shape. The lid being skillfully designed to give under the weight of soil so that it presses upon her as he once had.
He put his arms around himself, they were her arms now. He watches the soil settling: sinking as she gasps, desperate for her next impossible breath. He swells as she contracts. His release timed perfectly with hers.